


The Wrath of Thor, A One-Legged Viking, and other Things That Almost Killed Me

by Katythewriter (Maybeanartist02)



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, OC insert, warning for canon x oc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-03-17 01:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 51,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18955327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybeanartist02/pseuds/Katythewriter
Summary: When there are reports of missing dragons by the edge of the Archipelago, The Riders go to check it out. They stumble upon a trap and are brought to a dragon fight arena, where they find more than what they bargained for.





	1. A Short Detour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiccup makes a decision that leads him to Eira.

_**Part One: Defenders of Berk** _

_It’s not that you should never love something so much that it can control you._  
_It’s that you need to love something that much so you can never be controlled._  
_It’s not a weakness._  
_It’s your best strength._

_\--Nikita Gill_

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Hiccup**

I believed in mercy. I believed in giving people second chances, occasions and means to better themselves.

 

And I still believed that Bijor deserved that chance, despite being locked behind bars in his dragon-fight arena.

 

I can explain.

 

It was a gloomy day on Berk. The weather wasn’t trying to kill us, but wasn’t making things easy, either. On top of that, we had gotten reports of missing dragons by the border of the Archipelago. None of our dragons were missing, but there was a lack of wild dragons over there. So, the Riders and I decided to check it out.

 

Pretty much as soon as we so much as approached the island, nets, bolas and harpoons came flying.

 

“Hiccup!” Astrid warned, “Harpoon!”

 

“I see it, Astrid—WHOAH!”

 

“AHH--! Meatlug-!” Fishlegs!

 

“Stormfly, no—ARGH!” Astrid, down as well.

 

Snotlout gasped behind me, “WHOAH!”

 

Tuff and Ruff spiraled down, shouting, “Going down! Going down!”

 

A net hit Toothless, and I slipped off him, and plummeted into the ocean. In a matter of seconds, I was slipping out of consciousness.

 

By the time I woke up, we were loaded onto a wagon, and rolled over hills, straight for a chained-dome—

 

“Dragon fights,” I whispered, drawing the driver’s attention. He snarled at me, then nudged his pal, “he’s wakin’ up,” he growled, “knock him out again.”

 

My eyes widened, and I gasped, strangled, “Wait--!”

 

But it was too late. The big, burly guy brought his fist down on my neck, and I blacked out again.

 

The next time I woke up, it was to the feeling of a palm smacking my cheek. I sat up with a start, gasping:

 

“Ow--!”

 

“Snotlout!” Astrid hissed. Snotlout shrugged, “What!? That always works on my uncle!” I sat up, groaning as I rubbed my reddening cheek.

 

“What the hell, Snotlout?” I asked, exhausted.

 

The cell we were in wasn’t small, and we weren’t the only ones in it. By the window, from which light spilled into the room, stood someone else. I hadn’t noticed them until they’d huffed:

 

“You, are all so weird.”

 

I blinked, then shot the others a curious glance. They shrugged, so I decided to investigate. I stood up, and brushed off my clothes before slowly approaching them. As I drew nearer, they slowly turned their upper body towards me.

 

There, standing in the sunlight, was a girl around our age, with startling golden eyes, and a brown complexion, with splotches of white dotting her skin. She had her brown, nearly black, hair tied into twin braids, and wore simple clothes, brown shorts and a brown shirt over bandages covering her arms and legs.

 

 

“Um,” I said, very awkwardly, forcing myself to not stare at the scars littering her skin, “I’m Hiccup,” I offered her my hand. She glanced down at it, then quirked her brow as she looked me in the eyes. She was almost a whole head taller, and twice as strong if her toned stature was anything to go by. Finally, she took it.

 

“What’s your name?” I asked, and as if remembering manners, she blinked, then spoke, “Eira.”

 

I offered her a smile, then awkwardly half turned, revealing my comrades, “uh, and these are my friends,” I said, then gestured to each of them, “Astrid, Fishlegs, the twins, Ruff and Tuffnut, and Snotlout.”

 

Snotlout, ever the confident Viking, took this chance to saunter up and take her hand, holding it delicately as he boasted, “name’s Snotlout Jorgenson, rider of only the most dangerous dragon in the archipelago—a monstrous nightmare-- maybe you’ve heard o’ me?”

 

Eira blinked, then scoffed, “Sorry, Snotlout,” she shrugged, “but no.” Snotlout’s expression blanked, and he paled: “What?”

 

“I love Monstrous Nightmares as much as the next guy,” she said, “but, no. There are far more dangerous dragons out there.”

 

As Snotlout’s jaw dropped, Astrid cackled, “heh. Was about time someone said it.” I rolled my eyes, and she chuckled.

 

“You know,” Fishlegs said, timidly, “now probably isn’t the time for pleasantries.” Eira hummed, nodding, “he’s right,” she said, smile dropping, “it’s not,” she confirmed, then crossed her arms, “Do you guys even know where you are?” I opened my mouth, but Astrid was faster: “A dragon-fight arena. Those hunters were thrilled to talk their heads off about it.” Eira rolled her eyes, “yeah,” she agreed, “they’re very proud of themselves.”

 

Just then, cheers rang out. We rushed to the window/doors, only to see the entire arena filled with cheering Vikings. In the center of it all stood a man, spurring them on with flailing arms.

 

“Vikings! Hunters! Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the Dragon-Fight Arena of Bijor!” a loud cheer rushed across the arena, and the man laughed, “Welcome back, folks! Today we have a treat for ya!” he smirked, throwing a dark look towards us before addressing the crowd again, “The terrible Monstrous Nightmare will be going up against our beautifully deadly champion!”

 

Snotlout gasped, “Hookfang!” and Eira scoffed, “bastards,” and her golden eyes looked like embers in the light. “Wait,” Fishlegs whimpered, “what kind of dragon is the champion?” Astrid rolled her eyes, “isn’t it obvious? Beautifully deadly? Obviously it’s a Nadder.” Eira grimaced, waving her hand in a so-so gesture.

 

Just then, the doors slammed open.

 

“Goldie,” the guard commanded gruffly, “you’re up.”

 

Eira, however, didn’t move. The guard rolled his eyes with a grunt, then stalked over to Eira, and grabbed her arm. He began to force her out, but she protested. “I have a name,” she hissed, and he smirked, “Right, m’ bad, _Nadderborn_.” Eira glared at him, making a growl-like sound in the back of her throat, “that’s not it.” He huffed, “it is now,” he snarled, pushing her out of the cell, then slamming the door as he followed.

 

“What was that about?” Tuffnut asked, a few seconds later. I glanced to Astrid, who shrugged. Lost, I stuttered, “I…don’t think we want to know.”

 

I was, in fact, right about that. A few minutes later guards came to bring us into the stands. There, we met Bijor—the arena owner.

 

“My, my. Look what the cat dragged in,” he drawled, stalking closer, “a bunch of Hooligans.” Snotlout glowered at him, “should we know you?” The dragon hunter laughed, patting him on the back, “me? oh, no no. but the entire Archipelago knows _you_ ,” he shoved me away, causing me to stumble, but he grabbed my vest, preventing me from falling, “the friends of the dragons—the hooligan tribe of Berk,” he scoffed, then began to laugh.  

 

He stopped, suddenly, and abruptly yanked me towards him, “you lot are standing between us and our business,” he hissed. He shoved me away again, and this time I landed on the floor with a dull thud. “Hey!” Astrid yelled, but Bijor interrupted her with a raised hand, “now, you best be quiet,” he smirked, eyes trained on the arena, “the show’s about to begin.”

 

We all turned to follow his gaze, only to find the small, yet defiant form of Eira ‘Nadderborn’ standing in the center of the arena.

 

“What…?” I heard Astrid whisper before Bijor spoke up again.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Vikings and Traders!” he bellowed, “I present to you: Eira Nadderborn!” he laughed, “This evening, it will be her, and her alone, against the vicious Monstrous Nightmare!”

 

As a unit, all of us shouted in protest:

 

“What!?”

 

There was no time to do anything, think of anything, for the opponent was already being rolled in on a wagon, trapped in a cage.

 

Snotlout laughed, “oh, it’s Hookfang. He won’t hurt her.”

 

We stared at him, concerned.

 

“right?” he added, sounding unsure himself.

 

The guards opened the cage, then rushed out of the arena.

 

“LET THE FUN BEGIN!!” Bijor bellowed, effectively waking Hookfang up. Eira backed up into the wall in front of Hookfang, eyes trained on him. I couldn’t see her expression properly, but her stance was tense, as if every fiber of her being was telling her to run—

 

But she didn’t.

 

Hookfang roared, loud and fierce, setting himself on fire. Next, he flew to the chain-ceiling of the arena, first looking for an escape, then spotting Bijor, and hissing. Next he saw Snotlout, who warned: “don’t do this, Hookfang!” but the dragon just huffed.

 

He landed in front of Eira, lowering his snout to sniff her. I was faintly aware of Astrid asking Snotlout what the dragon was doing, but my attention was trained entirely on the scene below.

 

A few moments passed in which nothing happened—aside from Hookfang sniffing her, only being a few centimeters from her face, and her talking to him—and then, out of nowhere, he grabbed her leg, hauled her to the center of the ring, then—

 

He tossed her into the air.

 

“HOOKFANG! BAD DRAGON!” Snotlout shouted, but when I thought Eira would slam into the chains—

 

She slipped between them.

 

On her way down again, she landed _on_ the chains. Balancing precariously, she slowly puffed out her chest, rising to her full height.

 

“My name is Eira,” she declared, arms spread wide, “I speak for the dragons.” she smirked, golden eyes glowing as she rested her hands on her hips:

 

“Have you met my brother, the Monstrous Nightmare?”

 

If we’d had time to react, I think we would’ve gasped, then scoffed in disbelief, but what came next was too fast, too chaotic, and gave us too little time to react.

 

She ran over the chains, to where we were standing, tied to one another with a rope. Chaos broke out, and the audience broke into a panic, beginning to run around, frantic, knowing how dangerous she was. She drop kicked a guy in the face, then landed on all fours. She fixed Bijor with a glare, then—

 

She roared.

 

Honest to god, _roared_ , exactly how a dragon would, before pouncing him. He aimed his fist for her, but she ducked, reached for his knife, “this is mine,” she hissed, slipping the knife out of its holster, and snarling, “Thank you very much!”

 

Bijor whimpered, and she pointed her blade at his adam’s apple, and hissed:

 

“Leave.”

 

He nodded, then frantically scattered away. Eira drew her attention to our shocked faces, and immediately went to cut the rope.

 

“Find the other posts securing the chains,” she said, “let’s take this thing down.” She turned to leave, but before she could run off, I grabbed onto her hand, “where are you going?” I asked. She growled, meeting me with a fierce glare, “to get my dragon,” she said, before leaving, knocking several guards off their feet as she passed.

 

She disappeared into the building, and after a short assessment of the situation I let Astrid know I was going to get our dragons.

 

And I followed Eira inside.

 

Xxx

**Eira**

It was a mistake to go in here alone.

 

I was great at making mistakes.

 

I’d made it to the dragon cells no problem, but once there, I was edged into a corner by a guard with an axe. As he winded back, getting ready to strike down, I got ready to dodge. But before he could strike, there was the sound of metal against bone, and the guard collapsed where he stood. As the axe dropped to my feet, I followed the guard’s body to the floor before glancing behind him.

 

A foot.

 

I looked up, staring into those bright, endlessly vibrant green eyes. The boy from before. He was holding his metal leg in his hand, breathing heavily.

 

“You okay?” he asked as he crouched down to reattach his limp. I shook my head with a dragon-like snort. “I’m fine,” I said, getting ready to push myself to my feet, but then I had a face full of scrawny Viking hand.

 

I smirked, silently taking the hand he offered, and letting him pull me to my feet.

 

He wasn’t much help, but it’s the thought that counts.

 

“Quick,” I urged as the captured dragons roared for our attention, “help me open all the cages.” Hiccup nodded, then glanced to the screaming death. “All the cages?” he questioned. I nodded, heading for my violet Dramillion, Skipper, “all the cages, Hiccup.”

 

As soon as the gate was open, Skipper bounded out and tackled me to the floor, licking me clean from the grime of 3 months’ worth of dirt. “ARCGH!” I groaned, trying to push him off me, “gross, pal! Gross!” I heard Hiccup laugh, and glanced behind me.

 

He was perched atop a smiling Night Fury with a prosthetic wing. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Skipper removed his weight from me, and I climbed onto his back.

 

“Now,” I sighed, “let’s blow this joint.”

 

And blow it we did. By the time Hiccup and I reemerged, the captured dragons had set the entire arena aflame, and Hiccup’s entourage was hovering over the scene, waiting for him.

 

As he and his dragon began to fly towards them, he noticed my staying behind.

 

“Where are you heading?” he asked. I shrugged, “dunno. Don’t really have anywhere permanent to go,” I confessed, then waved, “I’ll find something.”

 

He frowned, then offered:

 

“you can come back to Berk with us, if you’d like.”

 

My lips parted, slightly, and my eyes widened.

 

“I can?” I asked, probably sounding too hopeful for my own good.

 

Hiccup smiled, shrugging, “I don’t see why not.”

 

Behind him, his comrades were waiting, and the sun was setting. He looked like the kind of person who would risk his life for people he barely knew, and, to me, he was kind of like a hero—my hero.

 

Without his help, I’d still be in there.

 

I smiled.

 

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”


	2. Settling In

**Hiccup**

For the first two weeks or so, Eira had to stay at the chief’s house, as we had no tavern in which she could stay, nor a hotel. Whenever many people visited Berk for more than a day—a rare occasion—they would stay in tents. Eira, however, had no tent. In fact, the only thing she was in possession of was on her person. 

 

On the night we got back to Berk, we’d decided to sleep in my room together. She’d insisted she’d sleep on the floor—not that it made much difference—while I got to sleep in my bed. At the time I’d prayed to Odin that it wouldn’t be awkward, but Eira had no sense of embarrassment.

 

As I led her to my room that first night, she’d stared at the drawings in awe.

 

“This is my desk, my bed, Toothless’ bed—”

 

“Did you draw these?”

 

Her voice startled me, and I whipped around to find her running scarred fingers over graphite drawings. My shoulders sagged, “Yeah,” I walked closer, “they’re not my best work,” I confessed, scratching the back of my head. Eira’s eyes shone, however, and she sighed,“they’re amazing.”

 

I laughed, hastily changing the subject by redirecting it to the academy schedule. Eira humored me, and let me divert the conversation as she settled on the  mess of pillows and blankets I’d laid on the floor for her.

 

When we were finally lying under covers, and the moon was high in the sky, she sparked a relaxed conversation.

 

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, and the question probably wasn’t meant to be taken so seriously, but I’m Hiccup Haddock and I take everything seriously.

 

“about…well,” I rolled over to face her,  “why did Bijor call you Nadder girl? And…their champion? What’s up with that?”

 

Eira’s expression was unreadable. She looked like she was smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

 

“well,” she shrugged, “guess they just _loved_ that the most I did was injure the dragons they pit me against.”

 

I frowned, “that’s it?”

 

“Well, no. they must’ve found it amusing that no matter how many dragons got too close for comfort, I would not kill them.”

 

“Would, or could not?”

 

She looked me in the eyes, and with the certainty of a woman who knew what she wanted, said:

 

“Would not. And I will not.”

 

I hummed.  I noticed she didn’t really answer my question. I decided to ignore that. “What are you thinking about?” I asked her. She snorted.

 

“A few years ago, If someone would’ve told me I’d be here, I would’ve thought they were crazy.”

 

I frowned at her words. “In Berk, or…?”

 

“I mean getting a chance to live with people,” she turns, resting her head on her hands, folded under her head, as she stared out the window, “I always thought my place was with the dragons. Every village I’ve come across has hunted Skipper, or thought I was insane for riding him,” she looked at me, “but you didn’t.”

 

I shrugged, “if we’d met a few months ago, you wouldn’t be saying that.” She hummed, “what prompted the change?”

 

And then, suddenly, I noticed.

 

“I did.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The plan had been to show Eira around Berk that following morning. But, as I should’ve guessed, Eira didn’t really care about ‘sticking to the schedule’.

 

When I woke up, my room was empty, except for Toothless, snoring carefreely. Eira had abandoned the mess of blankets and pillows on the floor, but the pouch that had been attached to her belt was still here, so she couldn’t be far.

 

I stood up abruptly, causing Toothless to open his eyes in alarm. “Sorry, Bud,” I apologized, pulling on my day clothes. On my way downstairs I picked up on my father and Gobber laughing over breakfast as I pulled on my boot, but I took no time to sit down with them, simply picking up a piece of bread on my way out.

 

“Morning, Hiccup—”

 

“Morning Dad, Hi Gobber. Can’t talk, gotta find Eira.”

 

And I was out.

 

x

 

I went to the only place I knew we both were familiar with—the academy. Upon arrival yesterday we’d brought her dragon here to rest with the others, so I hoped she’d be there.

 

Because otherwise I had no leads.

 

I walked into the vicinity of the arena to find the other riders already on their way there.

 

“Morning, Hiccup!” Fishlegs greeted. I laughed, “morning.” Then I hummed, “hey, has anyone seen Eira?”

 

Astrid huffed, “no? wasn’t she with you?” I pressed my lips together, nodding, “she was,” I sighed, ”but she…wasn’t. this morning.”

 

Snotlout laughed, “seriously? So not only did you lose a dragon, but now a person, too? The future chief of Berk, everyone.” Astrid rolled her eyes, “oh, shut up, Snotlout,” she hissed, punching him in the arm.

 

Upon entering the arena, we stumbled upon Eira, reading the book of dragons as our dragons sat around her. with Skipper’s head in her lap, Hookfang offering himself as a rock to lean against, and the others by her sides and feet, it made quite the scene.

 

She was, however, attentive, and noticed us as soon as we came into the arena.

 

“Oh,” she gasped, head whipping up, “good morning, everyone.”

 

“Good morning to you too,” Astrid said, walking over to Stormfly, then jokingly, “you dirty dragon-napper.” Eira rolled her eyes, petting Hookfang’s cheek, “I’m not kidnapping your dragons, Astrid.” Snotlout huffed, arms crossed, “oh really? It sure looks that way!”  

 

Astrid rolled her eyes as Hookfang huffed into Snotlout’s face, making Eira giggle. Eira closed the book and stood up, dusting off her pants.

 

“Sooo,” Fishlegs hummed, stepping closer to Meatlug, “speaking of dragons…what was that comment referring to, yesterday? About being Hookfang’s sister?” I nodded, having been wondering about that myself.  

 

Eira blinked, then shared a look with Hookfang. Hookfang huffed at her, causing her brown-nearly-black hair to become even messier. “Thanks for nothing,” she sighed, rolling her eyes, “you useless reptile.” Hookfang laughed at her, and she rolled her eyes with another sigh.

 

“You know Hookfang,” Snotlout said, sounding quite accusing, “don’t you!?” Eira stared at him, unimpressed. “Yes,” she confirmed, deadpan, “I do.”

 

We all looked at her with wide, expectant eyes.

 

“That totally surprised me,” Tuffnut said, breaking the silence. Eira huffed a laugh.

 

“Well,” Astrid pushed, “are you going to elaborate on that?” Eira hummed, “sure. Yeah, okay.”

 

She took in a deep breath, and Skipper nudged her hand.

 

“I didn’t have your typical image of a family,” she said, petting her own dragon, “I didn’t have a human mother,” she looked at Astrid, “or a sister,” the twins, “not a dad, either,” Snotlout, “didn’t have a brother,” to Fishlegs and I.

 

“I had dragons.”

 

For a moment, it was deathly quiet. Eira waited for someone to do something, anything. Thankfully, Tuffnut did.

 

“Whoah. So, like, you’re a dragon person?”

 

Astrid face palmed, and Eira scoffed, eventually breaking into a fit of laughter.

 

“No,” she assured, once she’d caught her breath, “I was just raised by dragons.” Snotlout scoffed, “no way,” he said, “no way.” Eira shrugged, “it’s true, believe it or not—that’s your decision.”

 

“So, wait,” I said, “how does this connect you to Hookfang?” Eira hummed, shrugging, then smiling sheepishly, “his mom was the one who raised me,” she said, glancing to him, then back to me, “so. We’re kind of like brother and sister?”

 

Hookfang roared his affirmation, and after a tense beat of silence, Snotlout spoke:

 

“Get. Out. Of. Here!” he said, incredulously, yet undoubtedly thrilled, “what the Valhalla! What the Valhalla!”

 

Eira laughed, and suddenly she was crowded by the other riders, being flooded with questions. She patiently answered them, ‘a masked person taught me how to read, write and speak’, ‘I’ve known Skipper since he was a hatchling,’ ‘we lived near the border of the Archipelago until I left a few years back.’

 

Soon, we were running out of questions. She used this opportunity to ask:

 

“So, what do you all do for fun around here?”

 

 

**Eira**

I think it’s excusable that I was exhausted after that long, adventure-filled day. I’d spent the morning in the arena with the dragons, reading the book of dragons I’d found in Hiccup’s room. A little while later, the riders had found me there, and began asking me questions about myself. After answering them, they’d introduced me to bobsledding, their ‘trick-contests’, and some sights of Berk.

 

What they’d failed to see, however, was that I would not be satisfied with such things. What I really was hoping for, was to explore Berk on my own, to find all the nooks and crannies to hide in, the seastacks to race to, and beaches to relax on.

 

As the sun drew closer to setting, we had dinner, and after that, everyone went their separate ways, and I went out in search of a shoreline to relax on. After an hour of flying around aimlessly, I actually found a place. It was kind of far off from the village, but it had a stellar view of the sunset.

 

I don’t know for how long I sat there, staring at the sunset, when the sound of wings flapping behind me caused me to turn around. Well, as best I could, in my fetal lying position.

 

It was Hiccup, sniggering at me as he was perched on top of Toothless.

 

As he landed a little ways beside me, I sat up, snapping at him, as he dismounted Toothless, and joined me, “Hey, cut me some slack, an entire day of answering questions and exploring Berk is exhausting!”

 

“Trust me,” Hiccup laughed, sitting down beside me, “I know.”

 

I smiled, then stared at the ocean.  A familiar sound caused me to perk up—Terrible Terrors were gathering at the ledge behind us, and slowly approaching us. They settled themselves on and around us. As a few nestled themselves in my lap, I frowned.

 

“I’m trapped.”

 

Hiccup snorted.

 

“Just push the dragons off your lap.”

 

“No,” I said, offended, “absolutely not, I’m not a _monster_.”

 

 

Hiccup laughed, and I realized it was the first he’d done it so carefreely since I’d met him.

 

“Your laugh is beautiful.”

 

Hiccup froze, and his entire face turned red. Toothless laughed, and Skipper swatted him into silence as Hiccup glared at the dragon in his lap.

 

“You…you can’t say that so casually.”

 

I frowned, “why not?”

 

Hiccup whipped his head up so he could look at me with wide eyes, “because! You just can’t!” I frowned, studying him.

 

“I don’t get it,” I shrugged, and he gave out a frustrated groan, flopping onto his back.

 

“I mean, if you think there’s something beautiful about someone,” I laid down next to Hiccup as I spoke, “why not tell them? You know.”

 

Hiccup just stared for a moment. “Did all those years traveling teach you that?” he asked, scoffing a little. I shrugged, “maybe.”

 

Hiccup sat up. “What else did you learn?”

 

I hesitated, thinking twice before I spoke again.

 

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years…it’s that I really hate being alone.”

 

Hiccup fell silent for a longer moment. Then I felt his eyes on my cheek, and I met their gaze, “well, you’re not alone anymore,” he said, “you have us.”

 

I smiled, humming, “Yeah,” I giggled, “guess I do.”

 

 

 

The day after I spent all morning greeting Berkians, and checking the neighborhood. Around lunch time, I found myself climbing the stairs to Gothi’s hut. It was the last place on the list I’d had made while talking to Stoick and Gobber this morning, but only because I was very slow, and had completely forgotten about it.

 

As I came close to the top of the staircase, I heard a voice announce: “I’m going to put the Fisher Root in now, Gothi!” and as I emerged, I saw who the voice belonged to:

 

A young boy, probably my age, was mixing something in Gothi’s cauldron, while the elderly woman sat in her rocking chair by her door. He had dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin. Freckles spotted his cheeks and neck. As I stepped onto the porch, both looked up at me.

 

“Oh,” the boy gasped, surprised, before smiling, “hello! Can we help you?” he brushed his hands off on his apron, before walking over to me. Gothi took over mixing the cauldron, as the boy reached out to shake my hand, “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, “I’m Noah.”

 

I beamed, taking his hand, his cheerful attitude infectious.

 

“Eira,” I said, “and no, we haven’t. I’m new, just arrived yesterday.” Noah smiled back, as he leaned against the table, “Well,” he said, “what brings you to Berk? it’s not exactly the most…ideal…place to move.”

 

I shrugged, arms crossed, “I dunno,” I said, “I think the company’s quite nice.” In that moment, a small, brown, terrible terror settled on my shoulder, rubbing its face against mine. Noah chuckled, “that’s Chip. And, you’re right. The company’s quite nice.”

 

“So,” I hummed, “what exactly are you doing up here?” Noah hummed, “I’m Gothi’s—our healer's—apprentice. “ I ‘oooh’-ed, “since when?” I asked, and he beamed, “for 4 years now,” he announced, proudly, and I couldn’t help but whistle in admiration. “You must be pretty quick on the uptake then,” I noted. Noah flushed, running a hand through his hair, “ahhh, well. you’d have to ask others. I’m a horrible judge.”

 

I shrugged, “well, either way, that takes serious dedication.”

 

“So does taming a dragon.”

 

I laughed, “true.” I waved, “well, I should get going—Skipper’s itching to stretch her wings.” Noah nodded, “it was great talking to you, Eira.” I beamed as I whistled, “you too, Noah!”

 

I dropped off the porch, onto Skipper’s back.


	3. Heather Report

**Hiccup**

Eira knew the most about dragons. That much had been clear the day she crashed here. She’d also go on to prove that in the following days.

 

It started in the morning. We were testing how fast each of our dragons were, with Skipper and Toothless in the lead (which didn’t come to a surprise), but Stormfly quickly catching up. It didn’t take long for me to conclude that Eira was helping Astrid with training, but I had no place in telling her not to.

 

“I know Skipper and Toothless are pretty even in terms of speed,” I told them, “but I never expected you to help Astrid, you cheaters,” I joked. Astrid threw her head back, laughing and Eira giggled, before stating: “it’s not Cheating! It’s using your resources!” I opened my mouth to reply, when Snotlout stormed into the arena.

 

“Guys! You won’t believe what I found!” he’d exclaimed, followed by Tuffnut asking “A severed head?”, Ruff’s “our uncle Lars?”, then Tuff’s “our uncle Lars’ severed head?”, to which Fishlegs asked if he really was beheaded, to which the twins asked him who told him that. Fed up with the shenanigans, Snotlout asked if anyone wanted to see or not.

 

As it turned out, Snotlout had found a girl who was shipwrecked. She was (looking back, conveniently so) lying in a cave the wood had caused. As the others argued over their right over her, and how she was a person, Eira crawled into the rubble to greet her as she woke slowly.

 

Later, we learned the mysterious woman’s name was Heather, and Heather’s parents had been (allegedly) killed by pirates. Despite Astrid’s obvious distrust towards Heather, the rest of us accepted her with open arms.

 

**Eira**

Even though I hadn’t been on Berk for long, I knew Astrid was a aggressive, usually jump-before-you-think kind of girl. However, I also should have known that you don’t argue with Astrid Hofferson. Ever. It’s a losing battle.  

 

It was already late afternoon, and Astrid and I were sparring—her axe against my knife—while discussing the Heather Incident.

 

“She’s shipwrecked, Astrid,” I’d told her, blocking a particularly aggressive blow, “you should lighten up.” Astrid huffed, “UGH! Lighten up!? I’m telling you not to trust her, not to kick her out!” I rolled my eyes, parrying another blow, “Look. In the end, Hiccup trusts her. you know him better than me—what are the chances he’ll listen to you without solid proof?” Astrid faltered, finally, allowing me to overpower her.

 

She clicked her tongue as she laid on the ground, “she’s bad news.”

 

 

That evening, as the sun began to set over Berk, Hiccup and I met for an evening flight.

 

“Hey there,” I said, landing behind him. Hiccup whipped around, “Whoa—” he gasped, then scoffed, “you love to sneak up on me, don’t you?” I shrugged, Skipper walking to stand next to him. “you’re easy,” I said, shoving him playfully. He rolled his eyes, “I know that already,” I froze at the resignation of his voice, but he already had moved on, and was sitting on Toothless’ back as he asked: “you coming?”

 

I shook my head to shake the tension, and climbed onto Skipper, and we took off after him and Toothless.

 

Flying was always exhilirating, but with Hiccup –scrawny little Hiccup—and Toothless—a Night Fury—it was downright magical. Toothless and Hiccup worked together as if they shared a mind, and Hiccup barely had to tell him where to fly. It stole my breath every time I saw it.

 

“Hey, Eira!” He shouted suddenly, looking over his shoulder, “how about a race?” I huffed, smirking. “Sure!” I called back, urging Skipper on, “see if you can catch up, plasma-brain!”

 

With a roar, Skipper took off. Hiccup, being the talented Viking he was, caught up in no time, making me laugh. Skipper and Toothless flew head to head, wing to wing, and the only thing seperating us was the width of their wings.

 

I made a sound in the back of my throat, one that attracted Toothless’ attention, and then I pointed to the sandbanks. With a start, Toothless dove, and Hiccup shouted.

 

“Traitorous repti—” he gasped, and Toothless sped up, causing him to gag, “--aCK! Cheating rider!”

 

“AHHAHAHA! SUCK IT, VIKING PRINCE!”

 

Skipper and I soared high, high, high, before falling backward and falling, falling, falling—

 

\--before soaring up again right before hitting the grass.

 

By the time we were in the sky again, Hiccup and Toothless had returned.

 

“My, my,” I teased, “you finally joined us, hmm?”  Hiccup rolled his eyes, and Toothless laughed.

 

We finally landed on a nearby seastack on the other side of Berk.  It was big enough for the dragons to have room to play and roll around, but small enough so we could see and hear whoever was on the other side. It was sturdy, and waves broke against the foot of it. Hiccup and I sat down by the edge, legs dangling over the water precariously.

 

“So,” I sighed, “what a rush, huh?” Hiccup smiled, “yeah. ‘specially that drop move you did. Aren’t you scared Skipper will be too slow to catch you?” I shrugged, “not really. I know how loyal and territorial he is. He’d never let anything happen to me. especially not by his claws.”

 

Hiccup fell silent, green eyes reflecting the moon and ocean. I shifted, uncertain, before speaking again.

 

“You know, Astrid really doesn’t like Heather.”

 

Hiccup rolled his eyes with a groan, “ugh. Not you too, Eira,” he begged. I held my hands up in defense, “hey! Hey!” I protested, “I like Heather, too! I’m just saying…this is Astrid. Maybe we should consider listening to her?” Hiccup frowned, quriking a brow at me. I laughed nervously, “maybe not, then.”

 

After a second, he sighed, eyes moving to gaze to the stars above, “it’s not that I don’t trust Astrid’s judgement, it’s just…” I watched him, then when he seemed at a loss, supplied: “you can’t see Heather being untrustworthy.” Hiccup’s eyes found mine, and he sighed, crestfallen: “yeah.”

 

“Don’t worry,” I told him, turning my own gaze to the stars, “I get that.It’s alright.” I heard him hum.

 

“You know…I never felt like I belonged.”

 

His confession caught me off guard, and I tilted my head to him, “oh?”

 

Hiccup nodded.

 

“I…always felt like I wasn’t enough. I was convinced my dad was dissappointed in me—the smallest, weakest of his tribe, his son?—I felt…alone.” He looked back to the moon, eyes alight, “but…then I met Toothless and it felt like I finally, finally…belonged.”

 

I hummed, letting him know I was listening.

 

“What I’m getting at is…maybe Heather feels the same way.”

 

I considered his words briefly, then nodded as I hummed, “that’s a possibility. In that case it’d be…well. bad, to act suspicious of her.” Hiccup nodded. “I just…don’t want anyone else feeling as lonely as me.”

 

I smiled, a sad tone to it, “I get that.”

 

 

 

 

The next morning Hiccup, Astrid and I had scheduled a timed race to decide whose dragon was fastest. I could tell Astrid was pissed as Valhalla when Hiccup missed it in favor of taking Heather on an early morning flight.

 

Astrid did _not_ like that.

 

“Hey, where's Hiccup?“ Fishlegs had asked, once he’d noticed Hiccup wasn’t there yet. Astrid rolled her eyes, arms crossed, “Giving a private lesson.” Fishlegs brightened up, not picking up on the sarcasm, “I didn't know he gave private lessons! Can anybody get in on that?“ Astrid grunted, „No,” she growled, glaring at Toothless as they zipped past, “Just her, apparently.”

 

Ruffnut grinned in a way that gave me reason to worry, “Uh-oh!” she gawked, “Looks like there's another hen in the rooster house.” Tuffnut laughed, but gave the impression he was confused. He proved my claim as he spoke, “Uh-oh. Yeah. Another rooster in the hen house,” he said, before asking, “Wait, what?“

 

I tilted my head. Despite being equally confused about the saying, I trusted Astrid would shed some light on it. “Nothing,” Astrid bites, “She thinks I'm jealous, which is completely ridiculous.“ That cleared everything up. To me, anyway.

 

“Oh, right, right,” Tuff nodded, then froze, “Wait. Of who? Me? Wait, am I the rooster, or the hen?” I rolled my eyes, arms crossed, “you’re a moron is what you are,” I quipped. Astrid smiled at my witty retort, but she hissed then, erasing it from existence, “trust me, the last thing I am is jealous,” she insisted.

 

When Hiccup finally landed, I picked up on the tense air between Heather and Astrid. Either they were fighting over Hiccup, or Astrid knew something I did not.

 

Throughout the course of the day, Heather asked about our dragons. We—ever the dragon nerds—happily supplied her with information. When she came by Skipper and I, I happily told her that Dramillions were endangered, very territorial, and loved chicken—like Nadders did.

 

That last info turned out to be a mistake to give out, as not even a day later Heather had stolen Stormfly.

 

 

Our rescue mission for Stormfly was brief. However, we lost the book of dragons to Alvin in the process.


	4. Little Talks

**Hiccup**

I felt like blaming myself. I felt like screaming, crying in frustration. I’d not only lost the Book of Dragons to Alvin, but I also gave a traitor most of our dragon secrets.

 

Upon voicing this to Eira, she pouted.

 

“Three things,” she said, turning to face me fully, “one: Heather was an amazing actress,” she claimed, “She fooled us all.” I scoffed, “she didn’t fool Astrid.” Eira rolled her eyes, backing off, crossing her arms, “Astrid is…Astrid,” she sighs, “Look, her kidnapping Stormfly wasn’t your fault. None of this was preventable,” she put her hand on my shoulder, leaning in, “I promise you that.”

 

I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut in: “Ah-ah-ah!” she said, wiggling her finger in my face before backing off again, “No excuses. None. This conversation is over.” She got up and left—concluding the conversation.

 

Two days after the whole fiasco, Astrid came up with a plan to get the book back. She’d sneak in as Heather to get the book, then meet us out back. Unfortunately, not everything went according to plan. First off, Heather had been honest about her parents being a bargaining chip. Second of all, Alvin had way more man power than us.

 

However, in the moment of truth, Heather came to our rescue—on Stormfly of all things—cheering.

 

When we returned to Berk, we gave the family a ship so they could go home and bode Heather farewell. She and Astrid appeared to be getting along. Her and Eira? Not so much. Eira, obviously having lost any and all faith in her, hovered several feet over the docks as we said goodbye. the look in her eyes made me fear for Heather’s life.

 

Eira groaned and flew away as the family left the docks. I patted Toothless, and we followed them.

 

“Eira!” I shouted, gaining on her, “Hey, Eira! Wait!” Eira glared at me, and Toothless and I flinched back. She took the chance to urge Skipper on and try to lose us in the forest.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” I promised, charging after her. we dodged between trees, soared over bushes, and jumped off bark until we caught up to them—

 

In the cove where Toothless had been trapped.   

 

She was sitting by the water, knees pulled to her chest, hand plucking at the grass when we landed behind her. I got off Toothless, who immediately began to play with Skipper. I sat down next to her, legs crossed.

 

“So,” I sighed, “you seemed…agitated.” She hummed. “Wanna…talk about that?” Eira glared at me, but her eyes were lined with tears. She growled, whipping her head back to look at the water.

 

“If looks could kill,” I joked, “I’d be dead by now.” This caused her to scoff a laugh. She looked at me with an incredulous expression, and I smiled.

 

“So…talk?”

 

Eira sighed, shifting so that her legs were tucked under her. “I just…” she began, then dropping her head as she found herself unable to voice her thoughts, “I never considered people being…betraying. Never thought about someone good doing bad things for their own benefit, and I just—” she threw her hands in the air and roared before dropping them in her lap again, “I’m so angry!”

 

She whipped her head to me, and with pleading eyes asked:

 

“How do I know if someone will stab me in the back?”

 

I froze up, pressing my lips together. Her pupils regarded me like a dragon’s—dilating, shifting—shining like stars, hopeful.

 

“You…you don’t,” I said, finally. She visibly deflated, and in my rush to comfort her I grabbed her hand, “you just have to take a leap of faith. Whenever you meet someone. Because…that’s what living amongst humans is. Taking risks and…just. Being yourself.”

 

Eira and I just stared at each other for a moment, me smiling sincerely, and her staring at me with wide eyes and a watery smile. Then, out of nowhere, she slammed her face into my chest and wrapped her arms around me.

 

She hugged me.

 

Her nails dug into my back, and I felt tears stain my tunic, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. All that mattered then was making sure Eira knew I was there for her.

 

**Eira**

It’d been almost a month since my arrival on Berk. almost a month since I met the dragon riders. Ever since I met him, Hiccup has been a constant presence. Due to our houses being in such close proximity, we saw each other almost every day at least once. Then again, since I joined the riders officially we saw each other at the academy every day, too.

 

But the strange force, pulling me towards him, urging me to get as close as possible—it had only gotten stronger.

 

Since the Heather incident I’d gotten closer to Astrid, Fishlegs, the Twins and even Snotlout. As for Hiccup, we weren’t exactly strangers either. We had our routinely evening flights, which usually ended with us sitting on a seastack and just talking. Usually about dragons and how we could train them, but every now and then we’d start talking about something more serious.

 

One night, as we’d fallen silent, I dared to ask:

 

“How did you and Toothless meet?”

 

Hiccup perked up, regarding me with a gaze I couldn’t place.

 

“Well,” he said, after a very long pause, “It was…a few months ago. Before we started training dragons, we were still killing them,” I shifted closer, head tilted to the side, brows furrowed, “and…I wanted to prove myself to my dad. To make him proud. But I’m not very strong, or whatever. So…I built a catapult that could throw nets,” he explained, drawing it’s blueprint in the dirt, “One night, when dragons were attacking, I decided to see if it worked. I ended up shooting Toothless out of the sky, and…”

 

I gazed to Toothless playing with Skipper, “it cost him his tail,” I concluded for him. He nodded. “I went to check it out that night but I couldn’t find him. When I returned the day after, however, I found him. I…” he hesitated, “...tried to kill him but…when I looked in his eyes it felt like I was just…staring into a mirror.” I hummed, nodding. “That’s when I started to realize Dragons aren’t…bloodthirsty.” His gaze, though I only saw it from the side as he stared at the Horizon, was filled to bursting with wonder.

 

Suddenly, he shook his head, snapping out of it, “A-anyway,” he began to hastily conclude the story, “we began to trust each other more and more, and…eventually I replaced his tail. But since he couldn’t use it on his own I helped him.”

 

I smiled, brushing hair out of my eyes, “that’s…amazing. You really are the smartest Viking.” Hiccup’s eyes widened, and they followed me as I stood up. “I don’t know if I could have given him a new tail, Hiccup,” I laughed, “you saved him.” Hiccup blushed—or at least I think he did, it was hard to tell in the moonlight—scratching the back of his head. “Ah, well…” he hummed, “Seriously,” I insisted, catching him off-guard, causing him to blink in surprise, “you might have rescued the last night fury alive, Hiccup.”

 

I saw the cogs turn in his brain as I walked away, but I didn’t look back.

 

I never looked back.


	5. Breakneck Bog

**Hiccup**

I felt like blaming myself. I felt like screaming, crying in frustration. I’d not only lost the Book of Dragons to Alvin, but I also gave a traitor most of our dragon secrets.

 

Upon voicing this to Eira, she pouted.

 

“Three things,” she said, turning to face me fully, “one: Heather was an amazing actress,” she claimed, “She fooled us all.” I scoffed, “she didn’t fool Astrid.” Eira rolled her eyes, backing off, crossing her arms, “Astrid is…Astrid,” she sighs, “Look, her kidnapping Stormfly wasn’t your fault. None of this was preventable,” she put her hand on my shoulder, leaning in, “I promise you that.”

 

I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut in: “Ah-ah-ah!” she said, wiggling her finger in my face before backing off again, “No excuses. None. This conversation is over.” She got up and left—concluding the conversation.

 

Two days after the whole fiasco, Astrid came up with a plan to get the book back. She’d sneak in as Heather to get the book, then meet us out back. Unfortunately, not everything went according to plan. First off, Heather had been honest about her parents being a bargaining chip. Second of all, Alvin had way more man power than us.

 

However, in the moment of truth, Heather came to our rescue—on Stormfly of all things—cheering.

 

When we returned to Berk, we gave the family a ship so they could go home and bode Heather farewell. She and Astrid appeared to be getting along. Her and Eira? Not so much. Eira, obviously having lost any and all faith in her, hovered several feet over the docks as we said goodbye. the look in her eyes made me fear for Heather’s life.

 

Eira groaned and flew away as the family left the docks. I patted Toothless, and we followed them.

 

“Eira!” I shouted, gaining on her, “Hey, Eira! Wait!” Eira glared at me, and Toothless and I flinched back. She took the chance to urge Skipper on and try to lose us in the forest.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” I promised, charging after her. we dodged between trees, soared over bushes, and jumped off bark until we caught up to them—

 

In the cove where Toothless had been trapped.   

 

She was sitting by the water, knees pulled to her chest, hand plucking at the grass when we landed behind her. I got off Toothless, who immediately began to play with Skipper. I sat down next to her, legs crossed.

 

“So,” I sighed, “you seemed…agitated.” She hummed. “Wanna…talk about that?” Eira glared at me, but her eyes were lined with tears. She growled, whipping her head back to look at the water.

 

“If looks could kill,” I joked, “I’d be dead by now.” This caused her to scoff a laugh. She looked at me with an incredulous expression, and I smiled.

 

“So…talk?”

 

Eira sighed, shifting so that her legs were tucked under her. “I just…” she began, then dropping her head as she found herself unable to voice her thoughts, “I never considered people being…betraying. Never thought about someone good doing bad things for their own benefit, and I just—” she threw her hands in the air and roared before dropping them in her lap again, “I’m so angry!”

 

She whipped her head to me, and with pleading eyes asked:

 

“How do I know if someone will stab me in the back?”

 

I froze up, pressing my lips together. Her pupils regarded me like a dragon’s—dilating, shifting—shining like stars, hopeful.

 

“You…you don’t,” I said, finally. She visibly deflated, and in my rush to comfort her I grabbed her hand, “you just have to take a leap of faith. Whenever you meet someone. Because…that’s what living amongst humans is. Taking risks and…just. Being yourself.”

 

Eira and I just stared at each other for a moment, me smiling sincerely, and her staring at me with wide eyes and a watery smile. Then, out of nowhere, she slammed her face into my chest and wrapped her arms around me.

 

She hugged me.

 

Her nails dug into my back, and I felt tears stain my tunic, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. All that mattered then was making sure Eira knew I was there for her.

 

**Eira**

It’d been almost a month since my arrival on Berk. almost a month since I met the dragon riders. Ever since I met him, Hiccup has been a constant presence. Due to our houses being in such close proximity, we saw each other almost every day at least once. Then again, since I joined the riders officially we saw each other at the academy every day, too.

 

But the strange force, pulling me towards him, urging me to get as close as possible—it had only gotten stronger.

 

Since the Heather incident I’d gotten closer to Astrid, Fishlegs, the Twins and even Snotlout. As for Hiccup, we weren’t exactly strangers either. We had our routinely evening flights, which usually ended with us sitting on a seastack and just talking. Usually about dragons and how we could train them, but every now and then we’d start talking about something more serious.

 

One night, as we’d fallen silent, I dared to ask:

 

“How did you and Toothless meet?”

 

Hiccup perked up, regarding me with a gaze I couldn’t place.

 

“Well,” he said, after a very long pause, “It was…a few months ago. Before we started training dragons, we were still killing them,” I shifted closer, head tilted to the side, brows furrowed, “and…I wanted to prove myself to my dad. To make him proud. But I’m not very strong, or whatever. So…I built a catapult that could throw nets,” he explained, drawing it’s blueprint in the dirt, “One night, when dragons were attacking, I decided to see if it worked. I ended up shooting Toothless out of the sky, and…”

 

I gazed to Toothless playing with Skipper, “it cost him his tail,” I concluded for him. He nodded. “I went to check it out that night but I couldn’t find him. When I returned the day after, however, I found him. I…” he hesitated, “...tried to kill him but…when I looked in his eyes it felt like I was just…staring into a mirror.” I hummed, nodding. “That’s when I started to realize Dragons aren’t…bloodthirsty.” His gaze, though I only saw it from the side as he stared at the Horizon, was filled to bursting with wonder.

 

Suddenly, he shook his head, snapping out of it, “A-anyway,” he began to hastily conclude the story, “we began to trust each other more and more, and…eventually I replaced his tail. But since he couldn’t use it on his own I helped him.”

 

I smiled, brushing hair out of my eyes, “that’s…amazing. You really are the smartest Viking.” Hiccup’s eyes widened, and they followed me as I stood up. “I don’t know if I could have given him a new tail, Hiccup,” I laughed, “you saved him.” Hiccup blushed—or at least I think he did, it was hard to tell in the moonlight—scratching the back of his head. “Ah, well…” he hummed, “Seriously,” I insisted, catching him off-guard, causing him to blink in surprise, “you might have rescued the last night fury alive, Hiccup.”

 

I saw the cogs turn in his brain as I walked away, but I didn’t look back.

 

I never looked back.

**xx**

The following morning Hiccup wasn’t there to fly to the academy with me—as we’d been doing—and by the time I’d made it near the academy, he was flying in. In the distance I saw Stoick making his way to the plaza on his Thunderdrum. I furrowed my brows in confusion, before I jogged to catch up with Astrid and Snotlout—who were entering the arena.

 

We entered the arena just as Hiccup was packing up and speaking to Toothless.

 

“Okey dokey. We'll start in the west islands and work our way back.”

 

Astrid crossed her arms as we came to a halt behind Hiccup, “Back from where?” Hiccup whirled around, eyes wide in alarm, “Uh…jus-just a quick spin around the island.” I frowned as I unpacked his bag, “with enough food to feed Snotlout’s entire family?” I asked, holding up a salmon and a bottle of water—only for Snotlout to enter, “did I hear my name?” he asked, before spotting the salmon in my hand, “Oooh! Do I see a salmon?” he snatched it from my hand, making me gasp, then growl.

 

Astrid rolled her eyes and we returned our attention to Hiccup.  The green eyed Viking sighed, “Uh... Alright,” he sucked in a sharp breath, “Look. If you must know...” “and we must,” Astrid supplied, “I'm going to do something for my father.”

 

I looked at him with a look that screamed ‘who do you take me for?’, and after a moment of his eyes flicking from me, to Astrid and back to me, his shoulders slumped with a groan, “Okay. Okay,” he sighs, finally coming out with the truth, “Trader Johann is bringing something for him. something important. and he should have been here by now.”

 

I frowned, fingers tapping my chin, “that’s…not good.” Hiccup shook his head, “no, it isn’t.”

 

After Snotlout got Hiccup’s fish stolen by Hookfang, Astrid and I managed to convince Hiccup to let us all come along.

 

After what felt like hours, we finally found Johann floating around on a piece of draft wood. We plucked him up and headed to the nearest island. We landed, and learned what had happened. Apparently his ship had suddenly vanished as he had been sailing near Breakneck Bog. I was about to ask what that was, but judging by the others freaking out over it, I supposed I didn’t want to know.

 

We also learned that the thing that Johann was supposed to deliver was for Hiccup, from his mother, of all people. Hiccup split the group: the twins and Snotlout were to take Johann to Berk while the others went to Breakneck Bog. We took off in the direction of Breakneck Bog, and I hovered near Hiccup.

 

“You…don’t remember your mom, right?” I asked, biting my lip. Hiccup glanced at me, then focused back on the ocean below, “No. my dad says she was taken by a dragon when I was little. I don’t have anything but my helmet to remember her by.” I huffed, smirking, “you mean the one you don’t wear?”

 

Hiccup rolled his eyes, “it’s got memorial value!” he protested, “I just don’t want to lose it again!” I ignored the ‘again’, instead simply laughing. My laughter died out slowly, and I hummed.

 

 

Not long after that exchange we reached Breakneck Bog. After flying around the island several times, we landed, deciding to check out the island itself. After hearing a strange sound, we decided to investigate, but Fishlegs protested: “Wait a minute! You don't go _towards_ the weird scary sound!“ I furrowed my brows, then quirked one, “uh, yeah we do,” I said, “we always do.” He sighed, “I know. I hate that about us.”

 

I slung and arm around him and we trudged along. Eventually, we spotted Johann’s ship balancing precariously on the crown of a tree. With little protests from Astrid and I, we decided to jump from our dragons to get to it.

 

Upon landing on the rickety boat, bones started to fall from the sky. Astrid, Hiccup and Fishlegs hurried below deck, but I hesitated—until Hiccup tugged me along. I told him that I wondered how that was possible—considering we were under open sky—but Fishlegs interrupted, chalking it up to the smoke monster.

 

Then we heard something. Hiccup found the chest, but a mysterious noise was giving us reason to fear for our lives. “Everyone,” Hiccup shouted, pointing to a nearby closet, “hide! In there!”

 

We squeezed into a large closet, squished together.

 

“Nobody breathe,” Hiccup warned. Unfortunately, that didn’t help, as we saw the closet being opened a second later. In his panic, Fishlegs said, teary eyed:  “I just want you to know, I love you guys.” I opened my mouth, and before I could speak, the closet doors did too.

 

The four of us screeched in our frenzied fear, but the sound died in our throats upon realizing it was just Snotlout and the twins. Astrid bounded forward, grabbing the skeletal arm Tuffnut was holding, and smacking him repeatedly with it as she pinned him to the floor.

 

Hiccup, after a few seconds, and fed up with the antics, sighed, “Alright, alright,” he groaned, pulling Astrid off the twin, “Break it up, you guys.” After Hiccup chastised Snotlout for leaving Johann behind, and a little more of him gloating about a necklace he found, the ship began to rock.

 

 

“Uh…guys?” I stammered, glancing around. As I did, Hiccup noticed as well. “Falling!” he warned, and we all shouted as we crashed to the forest floor. Once the boat had met with solid ground, there was a beat of silence. After a few seconds, I groaned, “everyone okay?” I ask, glancing around, “We all good?”

 

Astrid hummed, “define…’okay’.” Just then, a creepy sound gave us pause. After a second, Hiccup yelled: “RUN!”

 

We obeyed, and charged for the exit.

 

However, by the time we’d made it to the stairs leading to the deck, smoke was billowing in from above. “Just so you know, this fog, not us,“ Snotlout warned. I rolled my eyes, snarling: “that is, of course, oh so reassuring!”

 

As the smoke dissipated, the chest was gone. The others, in their distress, did not hesitate to leave the ship. I frowned, a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. “I’ll help you find it. If it’s that important to you…” Hiccup studied me briefly, green eyes boring into me, then he nodded sagely, “it is. Thank you.”

 

We traveled above deck, where Astrid had been waiting. The others had already mounted their dragons by the time we emerged. “You guys go,” Hiccup brushed them off, “I have to find that chest.“ I rested my elbow on his shoulder, nodding my support as I corrected: “We have to find that chest.”

 

. Snotlout huffed, “Do what you gotta do,” he shrugged, “See you when we see you.” Astrid strolled to the railing of the deck with a frown, “Hold on, you guys,” she said, “That chest is from his mom.“

 

„Yeah,” Tuff hummed, “Touching story. Gotta go!” Tuffnut said.

 

“Put yourself in his shoes,” Astrid persisted, but Snotlout corrected: “Shoe.”

 

Rolling her eyes, she continued, “What if it was _your_ mother?”

 

The other teens paused, then returned to us.

 

“I hate you,” Snotlout told Astrid when they’d set their feet on the deck again, “you’re an enabler,” he told me, “And _this_ does not mean we're friends,” he reminded Hiccup. I shrugged, “fair enough.” Hiccup nodded, smiling: “thank you guys, I mean it.”

 

We hurried to mount our dragons and follow the smoke. After a brief chase, we were cornered by the thing we’d been hunting. As we were surrounded, the dragons used their wing power to clear the smoke, showing us the smoke was simply hiding smaller, gray dragons.

 

“Well, look on the bright side, Fishlegs,” I said, grimacing, “No Fog Monster.” Fishlegs whimpered, glaring weakly, “I feel so much better now.“

 

After a brief moment of distress, Fishlegs and I whispered the dragon’s name as we remembered it. I’d completely forgotten they existed, and told the others as much. As did Fishlegs, apparently.

 

After a brief dispute with the smoke breaths, we fell back to conjure up a plan. Eventually, we decided to have Snotlout pose as a distraction while Astrid and Hiccup flew inside to retrieve the chest. After the brief rescue mission, we made a break for it—the chest in tow.

 

Back on Berk, Hiccup and I have our usual evening flight. During which, he tells me about the stuffed dragon that was in the box.

 

“That’s…ironic, in a way,” I’d said, “how something you feared became your friend, and your greatest strength.” He’d laughed, nodding, “yeah, I hear ya.” We flew in silence for a while, simply drinking in the view of moonlit clouds and the chill of wind whipping through our clothes and hair.

 

“Hey, Eira?” he said, suddenly, causing me to raise my brows in alarm as I glanced at him, “Yes?”

 

Hiccup took a deep breath. “Look…I…I don’t know what to expect anymore.” He gulped, “And I’m…I’m scared. To lose. To lose you guys.” I studied his face carefully. Hiccup was a prideful person, this I knew, and his words proved to me how vulnerable he was presenting himself to me.  In the light of the moon his cheeks looked red, but I couldn’t tell if it was simply the light or blush. Either way, I smiled.

 

“You won’t,” I promised, “that, I assure you.”

 

Hiccup smiled, forced, nodding. “Yeah. Right.” He shook off the fear off, and chuckled, “A-anyway. How about that race?” I cackled, urging Skipper on, “don’t mind if I do!” I called, as we descended into the night fog.


	6. Found Family

**Hiccup**

When Bork week rolled around, many things happened. It started with us—the riders and I—practicing dragon calls in the forest. I demonstrated, imitating Toothless’ roar, letting him know where I was, and he dropped into the cove seconds later. Fishlegs and Eira followed, with astounding accuracy. Though, Eira’s sounded more individual.

 

“That’s cheating,” Snotlout accused, “Eira’s had like, her whole life to practice!” Eira simply grinned, shrugging pridefully as Astrid attempted a roar. A flock of Deadly Nadders flew overhead.

 

Tuff frowned, “uh, I have an important question.” Eira sighed, rolling her eyes as she glanced at him, “is it actually important, Tuff?” he rolled his eyes in response, scoffing, “it always is—” she quirked her brow, “—like. Why are we even doing this anyway?” he shrugged, “I don’t get it.”

 

 

I sighed, turning to face him as I explained: “Well, first of all, you never know when you're gonna be separated from your dragon. And the only way to communicate is to call it.” Eira nodded, sitting down on a boulder, one leg raised to her chest as I continued, “Second of all, it's Bork week, and my dad asked us to put on a dragon air parade.”

 

Ruffnut asked why we even care about Bork—now that we made peace with the dragons—and Fishlegs and I explain that without him there’d be no book of dragons, and thus, no academy, and most likely—no Berk.

 

Snotlout rolled his eyes, reminding us that Sparks and Toothless had no dragons to fly with, and Eira quipped back that they could pull off ‘something actually impressive’, dissing him, and the other riders in the process.

 

But, that had gotten me thinking.

 

As we dispatched, each going our own ways, I headed to a cliffside outside the village, where I voiced my grievances to Toothless. He didn’t seem to care much.

 

“I wish there were other Night Fury’s for you, bud,” I was saying, patting my best friend affectionately, when Eira and Skipper landed on the grass beside me. my eyes followed her taller form as she slipped off the dragon’s back and collapsed in the grass beside me.

 

“So,” she huffed, “any ideas for what we could do?”

 

Though I knew what she was referring to, I played dumb. I quirked a brow, tilting my head in question and she pet Toothless, and he dropped his head in her lap. She rolled her eyes.

 

“For the flight show, dummy.”

 

I ‘aah’-ed, then shrugged. “Dunno,” I said, “I’m thinking.”

 

 

Despite our short time together, Eira knew how to read me. and, she always claimed, I was fairly easy to read. She sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder.

 

“We both know that’s not what you’re thinking about right now,” she admitted, and I slowly glanced at her from underneath my fringe, “so why not save us both the trouble, and just tell me what’s going on.”

 

I rolled my eyes and sighed, “It’s just that…Toothless has no one to fly with, sure, but he’s also all alone all year ‘round. He doesn’t have a pack, or, or, a family.”

 

“he has you,” she pointed out, and I’d flinched, whipping my head around to look at her, “and besides: Skipper doesn’t have anyone either.”

 

I frowned, “True, but—”

 

Before I could finish my thought, Astrid and Stormfly landed, and as they did, their Nadders flew over us in a perfect formation. When she pointed this out, catching my less than enthusiastic reaction, she asked what was wrong. Eira told her what I’d told her, and Astrid (strangely) said—roughly—the same thing Eira had.

 

Unfortunately, that did little to cheer me up.

 

“By the way,” Astrid said, before leaving, “Your dad and Gobber are waiting for you in the great hall. They looked pretty serious.” As she took off on Stormfly, I groaned, “oh, joy. Happy Bork Week to me”, Eira patted my back in a show of solidarity, which I very much appreciated.

 

 

Upon arriving in the great hall, I was met with the council, which led to me defending myself with the words: “I'd just like to say, in my own defense, that I cannot control Snotlout or the twins 24 hours a day.“ in response, my dad assured me it wasn’t about them, and soon after it was revealed that I’d be in charge of Bork’s notes from now on, seeing as I was ‘the symbol of Berk’s future’, as he had so eloquently put it.

 

I was excited, to say the least, and I knew Eira would be, too. So, I immediately made a beeline for her house. Together, we went over to my house, and had our first sleep-over—during which we poured over Bork’s notes.

 

By this point in time, I’d noticed Eira was all about touching. She barely went a moment without touching someone—usually me or Astrid—so to say I was surprised she was leaning against me as she read over my shoulder would be a lie.

 

 

“These are his personal notes, everything he observed about dragons is right here,” I sighed, in utter fascination as I flipped through the notebook’s pages. Eira hummed, “yeah, some of these dragons I didn’t even know about. It’s amazing,” she paused to laugh, “very extensive.” Our excitement died out, however, when I flipped the page, revealing a rather disturbing image of—what we assumed were—Bork’s neighbors.

 

“Along with some rather interesting artwork of his neighbors, it would seem,” she huffed as I shuddered and closed the notebook. As I disposited it on the floor, I noticed a hidden pocket on the notebook’s last page. Eira saw it too, if the way she tilted her head in dragon-like show of confusion was anything to go off.

 

 

I opened the pocket, where we found notes on Night Fury’s.

 

My expression lightened as I began to pour over them, “Bork didn’t put any of this in the book of dragons,” I assesed, and Eira pouted, “doesn’t that seem,” she shrugged, “I don’t know, _odd_ , to you?” she inquired, but I was too focused on the papers to listen to—or care about—what she was suggesting.

 

I kept going over what the notes said, and Eira huffed, indigilantly, “are you even listening to me?” she asked, but I only replied with the acknowledgement of The Isle of Night. Finally, after several tries to rationalize, she gave up with crossed arms and a huff:

 

“Fine, do what you want. But,” she pointed a finger at me, “when this turns out to be fake—which it will—don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

Xxx

 

The next morning, after a quick meeting, the riders and I ventured out, in search of Bork’s cave—as the notes told us to. On the island where it was said to be, Snotlout attempted a Changewing call, and Fishlegs corrected him. This, of course, prompted a call-war, until Eira stopped it with a guttoral growl and sharp words. However, this didn’t keep the Thunderdrum off our backs.

 

Nor the Changewing.

 

I told Astrid to help Fishlegs and me distract the Thunderdrum while the others searched for the cave entrance, but when Snotlout got swooped up by the Changewing, I was forced to look for the entrance myself as Eira and the twins tried to help him.

 

Inside the cave, I quickly located a map painted on the ceiling, and began to copy it. By the time I had, the cave was collapsing, and Toothless and I were trapped. Toothless decided to demonstrate a new ability, then, and used a roar to see in the dark—and find another way out.

 

Outside, Eira had freed Snotlout, and we made a quick escape to Berk. there, I analyzed the notes further, well into the night. Upon finding out that Night Fury’s are allegedly very aggressive towards other dragons, I decided to leave alone.

 

By the time I’d realized it was a trap, it was too late. As Alvin’s men captured Toothless and I, I found myself wishing Eira would burst through the wall at any moment.

 

I found myself regretting not listening to her.

 

Xxx

 

Alvin had many dragons in his cells. None of which were very well cared for. I could already hear Eira yelling at Alvin for a) capturing these dragons, and b) keeping them so poorly.

 

When Mildew was thrown into the cell across from me, I began to plot my escape.

 

After knocking a guard to Mildew with my metal leg, and him knocking the guard out, we began our escape together.

 

Something I’d eventually learn would come to be a grave mistake.

 

After getting out of the prison, I trained a wild Nadder who immediately took a liking to Mildew. Once inside the dragon prison, we realized Toothless wasn’t in his cell anymore. Alvin opened the other dragons’ cell, and the Nadder rushed outside with us on it’s back in the chaos.

 

Once outside again, the Nadder lands a little ways away from all the chaos, and we’re met with my dad, Gobber, and the riders already gathered there. I slipped off the Nadder’s back, and huffed, adressing Eira: “I’ll forever wonder how you always manage to find me when I need you.”

 

Eira shrugged, hands on her hips, “you make it pretty easy,” she admitted.

 

When I told them I had no idea where Toothless was, Astrid suggested using the calls we’d been practicing, and thank Thor that worked. Toothless located us, and we reunited—finally.

 

However, the peace is short-lived, thanks to my pride.

 

Alvin pushes my buttons, luring me towards him.

 

His men, hidden in the shadows, threw bolas at us, tying me to Toothless, trapping us both. However, the dragons appeared to love me, as they came to my aid despite their riders not telling them to.

 

 

As we’re leaving, Mildew falls off his dragon’s back, returning to the Outcasts.

 

 

 

On the way back to Berk, Eira was deathly silent. It wasn’t until we landed that she spoke. And even then, it wasn’t  immediate.

 

As we landed in the Arena, everyone went their separate ways to prepare for the upcoming parade. Eira and I, however, stayed in the arena a bit longer.

 

I could practically feel the rage radiating off her. Silence stretched between us as she fed Skipper.

 

I sighed, tired of the silence, “If you’re going to yell at me,” I snapped, “could you just do it already?”

 

Eira froze, then she clenched her eyes shut, before her shoulders sagged and she let out a sharp sigh.

 

“I’m not mad,” she said, eyes blank as she stared at me. I couldn’t read her. I blinked owlishly, “you’re not?” she rolled her eyes, “not at you, anyway.”

 

As we turned to face each other, she huffed, “I was just worried, okay? You have a tendency to get in over your head.” She stepped closer, “you tend to focus on your goal, and hyperfocus on that, and only that.” I shrugged, “my fatal flaw, I suppose,” and she shrugged, “we all have one,” she said.

 

A beat of silence.

 

“I was worried for you,” she said, finally, and I dared to look up, into those bright, bright eyes, “I’ve gone years without caring about another person,” she confessed, slowly, “but, here I am, worrying, caring for you and our stupid band of misfits—” I chuckled, but the sound died as I met her eyes and saw the beginnings of tears, and her voice grew more strained, “—you wormed your way into my heart, Hiccup Haddock,” she growled, finger prodding my chest, “so you bet your ass I won’t let you go so easily.”

 

I wanted to wipe her tears, promise that I wouldn’t leave, but—

 

I couldn’t move.

 

She wiped her tears as they fell, before pulling me into a crushing hug. it was strange, how I’d become so attached to her in such a short amount of time. I was relieved she seemed to feel just as strongly.

 

She stepped away, sighing, “you’re…a reckless, prideful, intelligent Viking,” I blinked, not sure if that was a compliment or not as she mounted Skipper, “so you’ll know better—” she pointed at me, “—than to make me worry like that again.”

 

I opened my mouth to explain, defend my actions, but the words died on my tongue. So, instead, I whispered:

 

“I’m Sorry.”

 

Eira sucked in a breath, then released it, shakily.

 

“As you should be.”

 

**_3 rd Person _ **

Eira and Hiccup grew closer as the days pass. Between attacks from the Outcasts, and training with the Academy, there’d been little time for bonding—romantic or otherwise.

 

As the two were flying away from an outcast ship after the metallic Meatlug incident, Hiccup saw Eira laugh—loud and wild, her lips wide in an unabashed smile and her golden eyes crinkling—and for a second he forgot how to breathe.

 

That should have been an indicator of their future together, but Hiccup thought nothing of it, as he was a dumbass.

 

A further hint should have been the tightness in his chest at the sight of Dagur practically drooling over Eira on his visit. Or the countless times her face had gotten too close to his in conversations alone, and he’d push away from her. or the amount of times she would sleep over and cuddle up to him. or the times she’d become angry, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away. or the time he had to give her the sex talk because no one had given it to her, and he couldn’t stop looking at her lips thoughout it.

 

Yeah. Hiccup might be the smartest Viking on Berk, but he was also the most oblivious.

 

As the days progress, many things happen.

 

Eira and Hiccup have many conversations as the world prepares them for the War with the Beserkers.


	7. Grounded

**Eira**

A few days have passed since retrieving Hiccup from Alvin, and Hiccup suggested training us to hold out against questioning. Astrid, of course, was instantly on board. As for me, despite finding the idea good in theory, I doubted we’d get very far.

 

The first one we trained was Fishlegs, but he also ended up being the last—for now.

 

“Tell us what you know about the dragons, boy. Tell us how you train them,” Hiccup said, turning his voice as low as it would go. Fishlegs huffed, meekly, “I won't talk! You can't make me!“ Hiccup audibly smirked, “Oh, I think we can.”

 

Suddenly, the lit torches in the cave go out, and Fishlegs is bathed in darkness. At first, he whimpered, “Hello? Is anybody there?” then, he rasped, “Oh, you can't-- you can't leave me in here.” He bit his lip for a moment, then began to spill:

 

“Okay, okay! Hiccup is the leader of the Berk Dragon Academy! He owns a Night Fury named Toothless! There’s Eira, she has a Dramillion, and she’s really scary! Then there's Astrid! She's mean, but in a nice way. Her dragon is Deadly Nadder, shoots spines, loves chicken! Snotlout rides a Monstrous Nightmare, but were not actually sure who's more monstrous, him or the dragon! Then there's the Twins. They share a Zippleback, actually they fight over it.“

 

I face palmed, sighing as Toothless lit the torches once more, and at the sight of our disappointment, Fishlegs groaned: “What?! You KNOW I hate the dark!“ Tuffnut sighed, „Great. Fishlegs? More like "Guppylegs". Jeez...“

 

Hiccup shook his head, „Fishlegs, you can't cave in! Alvin would do a lot more than turn out the light to get you to talk. He had me locked in a dungeon ready to be executed! Toothless was chained in muzzle for days. You need to stick with what we discussed: your name, where you live, and nothing else.“

 

The reminder of his brief, but obviously traumatizing stay made my heart rate pick up, and I huffed with a pout.

 

“All right, I'll work on it!“ Fishlegs promised, and as we left the room, Astrid grumbled, “Mean? I’m not mean!” Snotlout smirked, “it’s okay, Astrid. I like mean girls.” She groaned, and I huffed, “Am I really that scary?” I asked.

 

Ruffnut shrugged, “You scare even me sometimes.” I glanced to Tuff and Snotlout, who both nodded. Astrid pressed her lips together, avoiding my gaze, and I turned to Hiccup. He glanced around, then shrugged, “You don’t scare me.”

 

I didn’t have time to reply, for, as soon as we exited the hall, we were caught up by Gobber, telling Hiccup to meet his dad on the docks. He glanced to us, knowing we were planning to continue training, and I put my hand on his shoulder.

 

“Go ahead,” I told him, “we’ll meet you at the arena.”

 

 

 

As we walked to the arena, Snotlout continued to hit on Astrid and I, but was met with steely resistance. By the time Hiccup walked into the arena, Fishlegs had joined us, and Astrid had Snotlout pinned to a wall, pressing his arm into his back.

 

As Hiccup entered, I was the first to notice.

 

“Welcome back, dragon-dork,” I greeted with a smile, but it faded when I caught sight of his grimace. “Uh-oh,” I said, and the others turned to stare, “that’s not a good look.” Hiccup rolled his eyes, and I huffed, arms on my hips, “what did the chief want?”

 

Hiccup pouted, “you know he expects you to call him Stoick, one of these days, right?” he rolled his eyes, “I mean, you practically live at our place at this point.” I rolled my eyes, remembering the nights I’d sleep at Hiccup’s place, the only ones I’d get peaceful sleep. “you’re missing the point,” I protested, “What’s going on, Hiccup?”

 

Hiccup flinched as his name fell from my lips, and he tensed up before relaxing again. He sighed, “he’s grounding the dragons.”

 

From 5 very offended Vikings came the exclamation: “What!?” and Hiccup hastily explained his father’s reasoning. Apparently, the whole kidnapping had made him paranoid, and he didn’t want any of us in danger. Which, would have been a good point, if we hadn’t spent the last 6 months or so getting in trouble left and right.

 

“And you agreed? Just like that?” Astrid asked, offended. Hiccup sighed, “What other choice did I have? He's the chief, who also happens to be my incredibly overprotective father.“ I huffed, grabbing his bicep, “Well, we have to change his mind,” I said.

 

“Stoick the Vast?” Fishlegs asked, then chuckled dryly, “Um, good luck with that.” I rolled my eyes, hands on my hips. Meanwhile, Snotlout huffed, “So what am I supposed to do with Hookfang if he can't fly?” he gestured to the Monstrous Nightmare as said dragon set his tail on fire, “You know what happens when is inner warrior is caged up?”

 

In reply, Hookang smacks him across the Academy with his burning tail. Chocking back a snort, I turned away from Snotlout.

 

“THAT is what happens!“ he yells, face stuck under Astrid’s boot. “Whoa, we should have caged his inner warrior a long time ago. That was awesome!“ Tuff exclaimed, and Astrid sighed. Hiccup frowned, “Look, I know this is going to be hard,” he said, carefully, but I'll keep working on my dad, and hopefully he'll change his mind,” he promised. Astrid pouted, “and if he doesn’t?”

 

Hiccup pressed his lips together, and, to be honest, that was answer enough.

 

 

 

I was very much aware of Hiccup having snuck out that night, and that Astrid had followed him. It didn’t take much to notice, anyway, considering I’d spent the evening in the forge with him as he built his shield, and he’s refused my offer to walk home together. Despite this, I was somehow caught off guard by the proposal of a Dragon Flight Club.

 

He’d caught me in the arena, training with Skipper, who was varying his shots at me as I dodged or countered them with my knife. He must’ve stood there, motionless, for several minutes, for, by the time I’d noticed him, he was beginning to lose his footing.

 

“Hiccup,” I smiled, strained, “good morning.”

 

He flinched, then pressed his lips together, “Morning,” he said, slowly drawing closer, “Sooo….still training diligently, I see.” I huffed, crossing my arms, “of course,” I said, smirking, “I can’t always rely on Skipper, after all.”

 

I seemed to have struck a nerve, for Hiccup flinched, and remained tense even as he chuckled, “Well, funny you should mention that—” he huffed, “I…talked to Astrid last night—” I huffed, “go figure. On that _not_ -flight of yours?” he grimaced, “—yes. A-anyway, we came up with the idea of a dragon flight club.”

 

 

I pouted, quirking a brow, “Dragon Flight Club?” I echoed. He nodded, “we train at night, under the cover of darkness, and hone our skills on the battlefield.” I hummed, tapping my chin, “sounds good,” I leaned against a nearby barrel, foot stemmed against the wood, arms crossed, “have you told the others yet?”

 

He shook his head, “No,” he frowned “just you, so far.” I smiled, humming, “Well,” I beamed, “consider me a member.” Hiccup visibly brightened, and his posture lifting slightly in his excitement, “Great,” he beamed, “first meeting’s here, at sun down.” I nodded, smiling, “I’ll be there,” I promised.

 

He hummed.

 

“I know you will.”

 

And then he left, leaving me with a goofy smile in the middle of the arena. I didn’t stay much longer, however, having decided to take a nap before night came, knowing we’d been training late into the night.

 

Not that it mattered, as nightmares of searing heat on my back had me feeling as if I hadn’t slept at all—despite the time of day.

 

 

In the evening, we did indeed meet up for a round of training. Hiccup gave us a short speech on what to expect, before we set out to changewing island to study the dragons, before being chased off by said dragons.

 

The followings nights went by a similar schedule: meet up, go out to study dragons, get chased away, get some sleep.

 

After about a week of this, Hiccup started to look at me funny, as the bags under my eyes grew heavier each night.

 

The day we decided to study Typhomerangs, Hiccup approached me as I was watching Gobber make adjustments to my saddle, with my Terrible Terror, Furie. I was perched on the table, petting Furie idly as he came into the shop.

 

“Hello to you too,” I chipped, a little dryly, “o’ great dragon whisperer.” He rolled his eyes and I shifted to the side, giving his room to sit down beside me. he pushed himself onto the table with little difficulty, and, for a moment, I thought that everyone was underestimating his strength. After all, he’d been working in a forge before, so, out of everyone our age, he was probably strongest.

 

“Ha-ha,” he laughed dryly, “if anyone’s a dragon whisperer—it’s you.” I shrugged, “perhaps.”

 

Hiccup bit his lip, before addressing me again. He cut the chase, getting to the point, which I appreciated:

 

“Are you getting enough sleep?”

 

I huffed a laugh, nodding, “of course,” I lied, “well. as much as possible, all things considered.” We both risked a glance to Gobber, before focusing on one another again. Hiccup frowned, “yes, but…well,” he sighed, “you look tired,” he tilted his head, focusing on the dragon in my lap as he spoke, “I just…don’t want you to overwork yourself.”

 

I hummed, carefully studying his expression as he ran deft fingers over the spine of my dragon. At this point in time, his hands were scarred from wear of adventure, gripping the saddle too tight, of falling too often. They were far from fragile hands, and it fascinated me, how someone so…fragile looking, could be so strong.

 

“I won’t,” I lied, “you can stop worrying about me.”

 

Hiccup shrugged, “Well,” he hummed, meeting my gaze, “I never stop worrying about you.”

 

I blinked, then smiled, “good to hear,” I buzzed, slipping off the table. “If you must know,” I said, glancing over my shoulder, “I’ve been having nightmares,” I said, unsure as to why I was telling him this, “but nothing too serious.”

 

“About what?”

 

I blinked, turning around fully, “pardon?”

 

“What are the nightmares about?”

 

I froze, unable to move a muscle for a minute. I was reminded of the feeling of searing hot metal on my spine, the pain shooting through my body, to my toes and fingertips. The taste of long-gone blood coated my lips, and they suddenly felt very dry.

 

“You…you don’t have to tell me,” Hiccup said, suddenly, causing me to flinch, “I…I’m sorry.”

 

I bit my lip, avoiding his paralyzing stare, “I’d…rather not,” I hummed, “sorry.”

 

And then, I was gone.

 

 

 

Hiccup didn’t mention the incident that night, which I was grateful for, but that didn’t make the club meeting any easier. On our way back to Berk, we ran into Stoick, who spotted us thanks to the twins. Hiccup quickly commanded us to retreat to our homes, and we complied.

 

A little while later, we regrouped in the arena, where Fishlegs told us that despite being caught, he said nothing. Hiccup told us to lay low until this blew over, but, in that moment, Snotlout landed, claiming to have seen Alvin and his crew nearing Berk.

 

“What now?” Astrid asked, and Hiccup looked torn. I nodded to mself, sauntering up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. His tense posture relaxed, and he took a deep breath.

 

“We’re going to tell my dad,” he said, and I nodded, pulling away. He seemed to chase my hand, but before I could properly register this, he was leaving, with the other riders trailing behind.

 

 

 

“We’ll need the full academy—” I heard Stoick say as the door opened. When he caught sight of Fishlegs, his eyes widened. “Hey, chief,” Fishlegs said, and Stoick glanced to us. He shook is head, before leading us into battle.

 

We launched an attack on the ships at Stoick’s command, but as soon as our fire hit the deck, the cargo hole opened, releasing a horde of Changewings, headed straight for Berk.

 

“We can’t let those guys get to Berk!” I shouted, promptly chasing them across the ocean. Fishlegs reinforced this, “if they get into town we won’t be able to see them!”

 

We managed to cut them off long before they could land on Berk, but as we struggled to contain them while keeping an eye on Stoick, Hiccup commanded:

 

“Astrid, you and the others herd these guys to Changewing island—Eira, you and I are gonna help my dad!”

 

In a chorus, Astrid and I saluted: “Got it!”

 

Hiccup and I raced back to the Outcast ships, and with Stoick’s help, we made quick work of the small ship.

 

“They’re retreating!” Hiccup exclaimed, and I laughed, “Haha! Yes!”

 

“Well done, Hiccup,” Stoick boasted, proudly. Hiccup hummed, seemingly very touched, “Thanks, dad.” We turned back to Berk, but as we flew, Hiccup wore a sour expression.

 

“What’s wrong, son?” Stoick asked, and Hiccup sighed. “I don’t know, I just thought Alvin would have a little better plan than this.” I hummed, “you’re right,” I agreed, but Stoick scoffed, “let’s just be glad he didn’t.”

 

I frowned, meeting Hiccup’s own worried gaze as we descended upon the village once more.


	8. Tunnel Vision

**Hiccup**

Even after the flying ban was lifted, Eira seemed tired. We weren’t sneaking out at night anymore, so I wondered what kept her awake at night. When asked about it by Astrid, the brunette had assured her she was getting rest. And, really, I couldn’t do much but take her word for it.

 

A few days later, as we (tried to) bathe Gobber, Fishlegs realized the well has run dry. In an attempt to find out why, Eira and I ventured into the well. when the rope snapped, Toothless follows us down.

 

We landed on the ground with a dull WHUMP, and the ceiling cracked as Toothless dropped down to us. When he landed, he shook his head. “Toothless!” I exclaimed, petting him immediately, “you okay?”  Toothless licked my face, and I chuckled, relieved.

 

Shortly after, my dad called down:

 

“Hiccup! Eira!”

 

Eira huffed, shouting back, “We’re okay, Chief!”

 

“Can you fly back up?”

 

I shook my head, shouting back, “No, it’s too narrow.”

 

We heard Stoick yell, “someone get me a rope! I’m coming down, son!” but I protested, “No! then all four of us will be stuck down here.” Stoick growled, “well, just stay right there until I can think of a way to bring y’all back!”

 

“Or,” Eira suggested, “and hear me out: we could go find out where the water went.” My dad huffed, but before he could speak, I supplied: “We’re fine, dad! The water must’ve gone somewhere,” I glanced at Eira, who nodded, “Besides, I have Toothless and Eira with me,” she smirked as I spoke, “We’ll find another way out.”

 

We began to walk further down, and Eira pointed out a tunnel. “We found something,” I said, “looks like a tunnel.” My dad scoffed, “Well, just be careful down there! We’ll be on standby if ya need us!”

 

Eira and I shared a look, and nodded, before beginning our trekk into the tunnel. As we walked, Eira smirked, incredibly smug.

 

“So,” she nudged me, “I’m—protection wise—on par with a night fury, eh?” I felt my cheeks heat up as she cackled, “good to know~!” I huffed, glaring playfully, “Well, you’re certainly the most dangerous person I know. You’ve proven that.”

 

She hummed, “Astrid’s pretty dangerous,” she said. I nodded, “never said she wasn’t,” I shrugged, “I’m just saying you’re more likely to actually end someone’s life.” I hoped my bitter tone shone through, but judging by her grimace, it had. “That’s fair,” she hummed, grabbing the lantern and leading the way.

 

Eventually, I noticed something.

 

“These caverns run right under the town,” I acknowledged, and Eira hummed. “You’re right. Creepy—” her train of thought was interrupted, however, by the sound of egg shells cracking under my boot.

 

We crouched down, and she huffed, confused, “Dragon eggs?” she asked. Toothless sniffed the shells, then growled at them. Venturing further, we found crates—marked with the Outcasts’ seal.

 

Amongst whispering death holes, there was a larger, far more intimidating hole. “Do we even want to know what made _that_?” Eira asked, dryly. I shuddered, “I don’t think we do,” I sighed, “but I feel like we’re going to find out.” She hummed, shrugging, as we moved on, “somehow, I think you’re right about that, plasma-brain.”

 

We were eventually met with a dead end. “Great,” I deadpanned, and in that moment, the lantern went out, and Eira scoffed: “Perfect.” I nudged Toothless, “mind giving us a light, bud?” when the lantern was lit, my heart stopped. There, only a few meters behind us, was a whispering death.

 

Not wasting a second, Toothless shot it. It became confused, and Eira and me climbed onto the Nigth Fury’s back. After a brief chase, we lost them.

 

“That’s weird,” I frowned, and Eira nodded, “they’re not ones to give up so easily,” she said. We retraced our steps, realizing with bated breath that they were heading for the town. Immediately, we raced the demonic dragons to the surface.

 

When we emerged, the Whispering Deaths’ attack was in full swing. As we took to the sky to check the damage, Eira whistled for Skipper, who promptly met us on the way down. He was still pretty far away, when Eira stood up, and jumped off Toothless’ back.

 

At this point, however, I knew better than to try to catch her myself, and I trusted Skipper to catch her.

 

 

 

By the time we’d chased the hatchlings away, a new threat bore itself through Berk’s underground—

 

_The Screaming Death._

 

As it emerged, I deadpanned: “Suggestions, anyone?”

 

“Uh,” Eira remarked, awkwardly, “evacuate?”

 

It roared, and fly towards the town. As it went, Snotlout whimpered, “what is that thing!?”

 

after establishing that it wasn’t a known dragon, I divided the group: Eira and I would draw it away, while the others took care of the other Whispering Deaths.

 

I lead it out of Berk, and after establishing that it was attracted to light, we continued to out-maneouver him. Managing to have him slam into a wall, and damage his wings, he, and the hatchlings, retreated to a different island.

 

Back on Berk, I talked with my dad about this. He assured me we’d take care of Alvin later. There were more pressing matters—despite the well having refilled.

 

Later that day, Eira found me sitting on a ledge with Toothless, pondering.

 

“Here you are,” she sighed, as Skipper set his claws on the grass, “We missed you at bath time,” she laughed as she took a seat beside me, “You should have seen what came out from between his toes.”

 

I frowned, “I’m more concerned about what came out from underneath Berk.” Eira bit her lip, nodding, “True. That is…concerning.” I nodded, “I don’t think I need to tell you that Whispering Deaths often return to their birth place and claim it as their own.” She smiled, “no, and yet, you did just tell me.”

 

I sighed, “Sorry, I’m just…” “Worried,” she smiled, “I get it. Me too. But, there’s nothing we can do about this right now,” she stood, “What’s important right now is keeping our training up, and make sure Alvin doesn’t get away with shit like this again.”

 

I smiled, nodding, “Right,” I let her pull me to my feet, “you’re right. Of course you’re right.” She puffed out her chest, and I laughed, “you can be pretty wise when you wanna be.” She smiled, innocently, “I’m surprised it took you this long to figure that out, plasma-brain.”

 

I rolled my eyes, “I guess you’re just too good at playing dumb, wise-girl.” She giggled, beginning to walk towards Skipper, “the more you know,” she sang, before mounting up. I was right behind her as she flew back to the plaza.


	9. Race To Fireworm Island

**Eira**

Half a week later, we stood on the beach, watching as Snotlout and Hookfang trained. As he zipped past, we ducked. When he was gone again, Hiccup asked:

 

“What’s with him?“

 

Astrid shrugged, „I heard that ever since Alvin and the Whispering Deaths attacked, he's been training nonstop.” Fishlegs nodded, “I heard he has been flying all night for the past week.” Then, Tuff and Ruff joined in, “Yeah? Well, I heard Gothi can debone a yak just by looking at it.” “Well, I heard if you sit on a Terrible Terror, you can make flames come out of your—”

 

“Alright,” I interrupted, “first of all: false, second of all, what does this have to do with Snotlout?” Tuff shrugged, after an awkward pause, “Oh. I thought we were playing the "I heard" game. And by the way, "Terrible Terror" thing, totally true. I've tried.“

 

I blinked, then Skipper and I turned our backs to the twins, instead standing face to face with Hiccup.

 

Just then, Snotlout landed, boasting terribly: “That's right. You just saw what you just saw,” he said, kissing his biceps, and couldn’t help the growl that escaped me as Hookfang collapsed on the sand. I slipped off Skipper and walked over to the Monstrous Nightmare, crawling closer to the ground the closer I got. I put my hand on my snout and frowned, “Snotlout, Hookfang’s exhausted,” I told him, “he needs a break.”

 

Hiccup hummed in agreement, “Eira’s right. Hookfang looks pretty tired. I think you might be pushing him too hard.” Snotlout scoffed, “You say "pushing," I say "challenging." Hookfang doesn't need rest. He's a warrior. And we warriors live for the thrill of battle. It's like my Dad always says:--“

 

„Take a bath, Snotlout?“ Astrid supplied.

 

“Rip your tongue out, Snotlout?” Ruff offered.

 

“Stick your head up a yak’s—” Tuff began, but Snotlout interrupted: “No! No! None of those!“

 

This, however, implied Spitelout had said them at one point. That gave me reason to worry. I’d never had a conversation with Spitelout, he always tried his best to avoid me. I’d always chalked it up to him being afraid of me, but with the words Snotlout spewed next, I wondered if that wasn’t the whole of it:

 

“He says: "Rest is for the weak."”

 

I grimaced, and Hiccup remarked, sarcastically, “annnnd, thank you, Snotlout, for that inspirational speech.”

 

“You're welcome,” he smiled, “Now, let's get on with this exercise, unless you guys are too tired.”

 

I frowned, standing, “We may not be, but your dragon sure is,” I snapped. Snotlout, however, ignored me, taking off with Hookfang while cheering: “Snotlout! Snotlout! Oi! Oi! Oi!”

 

“I can name one thing I’m tired of,” Astrid deadpanned, before we took off behind him.

Xxx

 

As we flew over the waves on the Berkian waters, Hiccup began to explain:

 

“Okay guys Alvin wants Berk for himself and now he has Dragons. If he can train them to fight we'll have to battle Dragon riding Outcast soldiers up here.“

 

“Up where?” Tuff asked. I quirked a brow, “Up here?” I said, “in the sky?” he looked bewildered, “on your dragon?” Snotlout scoffed, “Well I say bring it on Alvin!“ we all glanced at him, before focusing on the sky again.

 

“Okay Astrid for this training exercise you and Stormfly will act as our bad Dragon,” Hiccup explained, and Astrid nodded, pulling Stormfly back so she had a clear view of us all, “And the rest of you make sure you don't get caught. If she catches you you're out,“ Hiccup says, before we all spread out.

 

 

As I saw Astrid chase Snotlout over me, my heart plummeted as Hookfang’s flames flickered on and off.

 

“Oh no,” I whispered, before promptly flying towards where he and the other riders were gathering. As soon as we were gathered, we decided to land on the nearest beach. I lagged behind, trying to remain calm.

 

“What?” Snotlout said, “have none of you seen a stubborn dragon before?”

 

I felt my thread of patience snap, and I growled as I stomped towards him:

 

“You…you ignorant, selfish, arrogant snot-nosed brat!” I shrieked, getting way too close for comfort, “don’t you fucking see when you’re pushing your dragon too hard!? He’s not being stubborn, he’s sick you mangled bafoon!!” I grabbed his vest, “And, I suggest you learn to be fucking considerate of your partner, instead of treating him like a weapon, before it’s too late!”

 

Snotlout shook, and his eyes were wide, but I didn’t stop.

 

“Hookfang is a living, breathing creature! Not a sword you can use until it breaks, then just have it repaired! He’s a monstrous nightmare, but he’s the only Hookfang! Until you realise that, you shouldn’t be allowed to be a rider,” I growled, prompty stomping off, towards Skipper. As I passed, Hiccup moved to grab my arm, but I slipped out of his grasp, growling, “Leave. Me. be.”

 

Hiccup’s eyes widened, and I wordlessly mounted up, flying off in rapid succession.

 

Xxx

 

I hadn’t meant to listen in on Snot and Spitelout’s conversation that night. I was passing their hut after another fly, and their door was opened slightly, and I heard everything.

 

“You know what I say about rest?” I heard Spitelout say, which made me freeze in my tracks as both men declared: “Rest is for the weak!”

 

“Heheh, it’s just a break, y’know,” Snotlout said, “from annihilating stuff all day.” I would have scoffed, if not for the sinking feeling I felt for Snotlout. After a long pause, Spitelout said:

 

“You know, boyo, as Viking warriors,” he walked to the door, and I hid, “if our swords are not cutting properly, we sharpen them,” my gut twisted and clenched, and I felt sick from where he was going with this, “but, if our sword cannot be sharpened anymore—” he snapped a sword on his knee, “—we get a new sword.”

 

As he left, he said, cheerfully: “thanks for the bludgeon.”

 

When I was convinced he’d left, I reemerged from my hiding place, stepping into the door of the house. Snotlout had his back turned to me, so I cleared my throat. He whipped around, and I waved, dully, “Hey, Snotlout.”

 

“What!” he gasped, “what are you doing here?!” he scoffed, “haven’t you yelled at me enough, today!?” his eyes widened when he saw my shoulders tense. “Wait,” he whispered, “did you…spy on me?”

 

“No,” I said, “I heard…everything…but, not on purpose, I swear.”

 

He clicked his tongue, “what does it matter? So, you gonna tell your _prince charming_ , Hiccup?”

 

I rolled my eyes, “Despite what you may believe,” I said, stepping into the room, “I am capable of keeping secrets.”

 

His eyes widened, before narrowing again.

 

“If you want to keep your…wonky relationship a secret, I’ll make sure it does—” he gasped, a little, “—but, that being said…if you need me, I’m here for you.”

 

He clicked his tongue, “yeah right.”

 

I put my hand on his shoulder, “I’m serious. You may annoy me to death, but, I still consider you my friend.”

 

“Even after…?”

 

I smiled, “Yes,” I nodded, “even after today.”

 

“How do I know I can trust you?”

 

I sighed, “I guess you’re just going to take a leap of faith. Not like I can take back what I heard, anyway.”

 

He shrugged, “I guess.” He looked at me, hopefully, “do you know how we can save Hookfang?” I slumped, shaking my head, “No,” as he deflated, I put my hand on his shoulder, “but we’ll find a way. Together.”

 

He smiled, and before I left, I hugged him.

 

“What was that?” he asked.

 

I smiled, “A hug,” I replied, “you looked like you needed one.”

 

Xxx

 

After a full day of trying to use fireworms to reignite the Monstrous Nightmare’s flame, Snotlout (and i) became desperate.

 

As the twins messed around with two fire worms, Hiccup focused on them.

 

“Are you sure it’s a good time to be focusing on the twins?” I asked, to which he replied, “Actually, it’s the perfect time.” I frowned, “how so?” Hiccup smiled, “one thing you need to know about the twins, is that all that insanity—more often than not—sparks my greatest ideas.”

 

I smirked, crossing my arms as he walked over to them.

 

 

Shortly thereafter, he trapped a bunch of fireworms in a lantern, then went on to show how they got brighter the closer they were to one another.

 

“So if I’m right,” Hiccup said, “the closer we get to more fireworms!” he began to bounce around, excitedly, “come on, Tuff, lead us home!”

 

Tuff thought for a minute. Then, he declared: “We’ll all burst into flame!”

 

“No!” I protested, “they’ll glow brighter, and since there is an island full of fireworms, we can use them to find it!”

 

“EEEEE-xactly,” Hiccup said, and I grinned. The look he threw me was nothing short of prideful.

 

I could have basked in it for hours.

 

But, we had work to do.

 

 

 

After a few hours, we finally found the island. There, we found an entire nest of fireworms—whose queen was more than eager to help, though we did misunderstand her actions at first.

 

But, hearing Snotlout say “you’re not just another sword” made it all worth it in the end.

 

 

 

As we flew back to Berk, Hiccup hovered nearby.

 

“You and Snotlout seem to be getting along,” he noted, and I hummed, “Well, let’s just say we learned to understand each other a little better, recently.” Hiccup smiled, nodding, “are the specifics a secret?”

 

I giggled, feeling Snotlout’s eyes on me as I spoke, “Yes. And it’s a secret I’ll take to my grave, if need be.” Hiccup hummed, “good to know that despite us telling each other everything, you still keep your word.”

 

I cackled, “of course! What kind of person would I be if I didn’t?” I didn’t see Hiccup smile, for I’d already spurred Skipper to go faster, yearning to feel the cool wind in my anxiety-heated face.


	10. Sunken Islands and the Skrill

**Eira**

A few days later, we decided to go out and tag Dragons, in order to keep better track on where they migrate to and whatnot. When green dragons randomly appear on a purple-coded island, Hiccup introduces us to Terror-mail, while simolteneaously asking Fishlegs about the colored dragons.

 

“And how will we know if he made it?“ Astrid asked, to which Hiccup replied, smugly, “When Fishlegs and Snotlout meet us at Dragon Island.” Astrid scoffed, “Please. If that happens, I will kiss Snotlout on the lips.”

 

I grimaced, knowing that it did, in fact work. After all, Hiccup and Fishlegs asked me if it—theoretically—would work, and I was with them when we tested it.

 

So, already feeling sorry for Astrid, we made our way to dragon island—where Snotlout and Fishlegs were waiting.

 

As we landed, Hiccup laughed, “Well look who it is. Fishlegs and Snotlout! Both right here on Dragon Island.” Astrid growled, and with quirked brows I carefully maneuvered away from her , and went to greet Hookfang. Snotlout woke up as Hiccup said, “Astrid was just talking about you.”

 

“Hmhm, of course she was,” Snotlout hummed, and I caught Hiccup making kissy faces at Astrid, which caused me to stifle a giggle.

 

We then, however, went on to address the green dragons on crescent island.

 

“Fishlegs, does it make any sense to you that those dragons would be there?“ I asked, and Fishlegs shook his head, pointing at our handy map, “No they shouldn't be. Crescent island is clearly marked as purple.“ Hiccup frowned, „That’s what I thought.”

 

“So, what would the green dragons doing there?” Astrid asked, and Fishlegs rolled his eyes, “First of all it's not green. It's pistachio,” he corrected, “They belong on tall tree island: that's where I tagged them.” I hummed, tapping my chin, “so they randomly migrated to Crescent…but _why_?”

 

“Well,” Astrid said, “your pistachio dragons aren't where they supposed to be.” Fishlegs frowned. “We need to figure this out,” Hiccup said, “Let's check out tall tree island.” Snotlout stretched, finally standing up, “Sounds awesome. I was wondering what I was gonna do with the rest of my day.”

 

As soon as we took off, Snotlout turned back to Berk. Typcial.

Xxx

 

As we approached what should have been tall tree island, we were met with empty seas.

 

“I don't understand,” I pointed out, “we should be there by now.” “Maybe we're off course,“ Astrid offered, and Fishlegs scoffed, „I don't do off course, Astrid. According to my map it should be right...“

 

He looked around, but we still found nothing.

 

“You were saying?“ Astrid asked, and Hiccup frowned, “Even if we were off course we'd still be able to see it from here.” Astrid huffed, “Well, an island can’t just disappear.” I nodded, “she’s right. Island’s don’t just…up and leave.”

 

Fishlegs shrugged, “Earth Quake, maybe?” Hiccup turned to him, “Volcano?” Fishlegs began to panic, “Wrath of Thor, Wrath of Odin?!” I grunted, then yelled: “Enough!” they blinked in surprise, “we need to find out what happened, but panicking won’t do any of us any good.”

 

Just then, apricot colored dragons came our way. We decided to trace their tracks back to—what was left of, anyway—sandstone island.

 

“Huh? I thought it was bigger,” Fishlegs stated.  “You think?“ Astrid asked, dryly, as we cramped onto the small ledge. Hiccup chuckled, “I-I have to say the beaches are a bit of disappointment.” I rolled my eyes, then shook my head at him, “Funny.” He shrugged, “I thought so.”

 

“One island is missing and one island has been sunk,” Fishlegs hummed. Astrid shrugs, “I guess an entire island can disappear.“ I frowned as Fishlegs inquired, “Well if- if the islands gone, where do the dragons go?” I huffed, taking to the skies, “Excellent question,” I said, “dragons live on specific islands for specific reasons, be it food, habitation, or safety.”

 

Astrid scowled, “If they lose their homes, it could endanger their whole species.” Hiccup nodded, meeting my gaze, “We need to figure out what's going on. Now. Let's head back to dragon island.“ Astrid grimaced, „If it’s still there.”

 

 

Dragon island, was, in fact, still there—and crawling with migrated dragons.

 

We establish that not two, but three islands have disappeared, and Astrid, Hiccup and I venture out to check the situation, and get some answers.

 

On Thor Rock Island, we find our perpetrator:

 

_The Screaming Death._

“The screaming death has been destroying all the islands. It must be tunneling underneath and cause them to collapse in on themselves,” Hiccup explained. Astrid scoffed, “But why would it do that?“ Hiccup shrugs, “I don't know. Lets get a closer look.“

 

Astrid glares at him, and I laugh, reminding her: “You wanted dangerous, didn’t you?” before we flew after it.

 

After a brief escape, we return to Dragon island and tell Fishlegs what we found. We realize that it’s headed for Berk, and decide to make our stand on Dragon island, driving it away from there.

 

As it draws close, already, Astrid, Fishlegs and I stay behind as a safety net, if Hiccup fails to draw it away.

 

As Astrid complains about unreliable terror-mail, Fishlegs gets an idea. Astrid goes to help Hiccup, while I keep watch over the island.

 

A few minutes later, Fishlegs leads a horde of Gronckles into battle, fighting the Screaming Death, chasing him off, finally. He pulls back into the island’s underground, and Hiccup tells Astrid and Fishlegs to round up wild dragons while he draws it out again with me.

 

After a brief underground chase, we draw it out, and once in the sky again, he’s met with the twins, Snotlout, and Astrid and Fishlegs’ territorial dragons.

 

Wounded, the Screaming Death retreats.

 

As the island sinks, Fishlegs has the idea to have the Gronckles fill the holes with lava, stabilizing the island.

 

Back on Berk, Hiccup told us that he found out that not only does the Screaming Death only hatch once every 100 years, but that it’s still out there, and will come back to Berk.

 

 

 A few weeks later, the Skrill incident happened. After finding (and freeing) a Skrill trapped in ice, we tried to trap it again. In the midst of this, Hiccup and the twins infiltrated the Outcasts, and found out they and the Beserkers were forming a truce. In the end, the truce is nullified, and Dagur gets rid of Alvin, and we manage to subdue the Skrill, due to Dagur’s lack of control over it.

 

Nontheless, now we’re up against Beserkers, and things got a whole lot messier.


	11. What Goes Unseen

**Hiccup**

As a war with the Beserkers began to brew, I got to know Eira.

 

I got to see her rage when Snotlout overworked Hookfang: red faced, screaming words so loud her voice broke, and tears swelled in her eyes—she was the all or nothing type.

 

The night we returned from Fireworm island—and had restored Hookfang to his former glory—I found her sitting on the beach. Alone.

 

Toothless and I landed on the ledge behind her, and I knew she noticed us from the way she tensed up. I slipped off my friend’s back, and crouched by the edge.

 

“Can I join you?” I asked. She shrugged, “knock yourself out, plasma-brain.”

 

I slid down the steep hill leading to the beach, and dropped into the sand beside her. for a few minutes, we sat in silence. I had no idea what to say, or do. When I glanced at her, she was glaring at the ocean, knees pulled to her chest as a pink Terrible Terror curled up at her feet.

 

She was amazing.

I gathered all the courage I had in my body—however tiny it was—and decided to ask something that may or may not could have gotten me killed:

 

“What happened to your and Hookfang’s mother?”

 

Eira didn’t respond immediately, and for a minute I thought I’d messed up our budding friendship, and I started to stand to leave, but—

 

“Dragon Hunters.”

 

Two words. I never knew how much grief two words could wield.

 

I sat back down again.

 

“Dragon Hunters destroyed my family,” she said, fixing me with a glare that made my legs shake and my heart pound, “my home, and my mentor. I will never forgive them.”

 

For someone’s whose name means mercy, I thought, you sure are merciless.

 

She met my gaze, but whereas mine was filled with secondhand sadness, she was _enraged_. Her golden eyes were alight with a raging fire, hot enough to burn if you got too close, and her brows were furrowed, giving me the impression that messing with her would be a death wish.

 

She was deadly, and that was the moment I realized it.

 

Xxx

I got to know Eira.

 

I learned, one night, as we celebrated another holiday, that Eira had a beautiful singing voice.

 

I got to know Eira’s greatest fears, too.

 

It was the night after we’d gotten rid of the Flightmare. What should have been a night to celebrate, ended up being a night of tears and comfort.

 

 

I was sitting at my desk, tweaking my design for a new tail for Toothless, when I heard a dragon land on our roof. I froze in place, and not 2 seconds later Eira had dropped into my room.

 

I turned around to ask her what she was doing here, but the obvious fear in her eyes made me pause. I quickly stood as she began to cross the distance between us.

 

“Eira, what’s wro—”

 

Before I could finish asking, she had wrapped her arms around me and was hugging me. there was little to no force behind it, and it seemed as if she’d just done it to assure that I was here.

 

That she wasn’t alone.

 

 

After 3 minutes, she released me. she’d calmed down, but she was still shaken. Wordlessly, I guided her to sit on my bed. I sat down next to her, and with no inhibitions, she laid her head on my shoulder and laced her pinkie finger with mine.

 

After a few seconds, I asked:

 

“You okay?”

 

She hummed.

 

“Want to talk about it?”

 

She bit her lip, shifting closer, so that our shoulders touched. When I thought she wouldn’t answer at all, she did.

 

“I…thought I’d lost you.”

 

And that was all she had to say for me to understand.

 

I said nothing, and simply hugged her.

 

We fell asleep like that.

 

Xxx

 

I learned that Eira was compassionate.

 

Especially for dragons.

 

When Fishlegs became preoccupied with his terrible terror during the ‘how to train your dragon’ competiiton, Eira dropped the competition to follow Meatlug, who wandered off.

 

**Eira**

When I originally followed Meatlug, I wasn’t expecting to stumble across Alvin and his outcasts. As such, no wonder they’d managed to get the drop on me, knocking me unconcious and kidnapping me alongside the Gronckle.

 

When I came to again, I was on Alvin’s boat, leaning against the mast.

 

“Welcome back,” the croaky voice of Alvin spoke, “little miss Nadder.”

 

I growled, baring my teeth. “Alvin,” I hissed, “you won’t get away with this.”

 

Alvin laughed, obnoxious and croaky, “oh, I think so.”

 

Only a few seconds passed before I spotted the riders on the horizon. After the first shot was fired, and they were forced to fall back, I rushed to Meatlug’s side, “don’t wirry, girl. They’re gonna be back,” I assured her, and myself.  

 

Then, Astrid’s terrible terror appeared on Alvin’s helmet. Savage, in an attempt to kill it, brought his sword down on Alvin’s head. As Alvin turned to slash him, Fishlegs’ dragon snatched the sword out of his hands. Next, Hiccup’s terror shot our restraints, and I mounted Meatlug before she had a chance to take off without me.

 

Before we could get away, Alvin managed to catch Meatlug’s leg with a rope. Snotlout, ever the fast acting Viking, threw his Terrible Terror at it, and it’s teeth severed the rope, setting us free.

 

As we took to the skies, Skipper dived, and I jumped onto his back.

 

I laughed, “Ahahaha!” I pet his cheek, pressing mine to his neck, “Thanks, pal.”

 

Xxx

 

Hiccup and I spent a lot of time together, thanks to our routinely evening flights.

 

He learnt a lot about me. I learned a lot about him.

 

But that pull I felt…the one drawing me to him.

 

It never let go.

 

X

 

One day the Outcasts captured a Skrill.

 

The skrill the twins accidentally set free.

 

The one Dagur was after.

 

That Skrill.

 

We ventured to Outcast Island with the twins, with Tuff sneaking into the base to find out what the plan was for the captured Skrill. As we waited for him to return, I dared to ask Hiccup:

 

“How did you lose your leg?”

 

He froze, eyes hooded as he glanced at his knees, and I was ready to let it go, thinking he wouldn’t tell me.

 

But he did.

 

Xxx

 

More time passed, with Hiccup and me becoming close friends. When Alvin came to Berk with Snotlout (after he flew off to pout), he claimed to want to make peace with the Vikings. After Hiccup and I declining, we spent dinner trying to get the truth about what Alvin had done out of Stoick.

 

But he remained firm in not telling us.

 

When Stoick was captured, Hiccup was thrust into the position of acting chief. After he fails to calm the panicking town, we return to his house, where we talk to Gobber.  

 

From Gobber we learn that Stoick and Alvin were best friends, but before we can learn anything else, Fishlegs bursts in with news of the screaming death. 

 

After a brief conversation with the gang, Hiccup explained his plan to me, before promptly telling me to help stop the approaching Screaming Death. Outside of Berk’s prison, I grabbed his arm.

 

“Hiccup—”

 

“I’ll be fine,” he interrupted, hand on mine, “trust me.”

 

I frowned, then nodded, “I’m with you,” I promised, “All the way.” He smiled, and I rolled my eyes, briefly hugging him with the words: “Be careful,” I pushed him off me, “don’t go dying on me.”

 

He regarded me, carfeully, then pressed his lips together in consideration. Finally, he smiled, nodding, and my hands fell to my sides as we went our separate ways.

 

When Hiccup’s terror mail arrived a few hours later, my jaw positively dropeed.

 

“This is a horrifying plan,” I mumbled, then turned to the gathered group, “Right, listen up Riders!” the gang gathered, wearing varying degrees of excitement in their expressions, and I matched them with a smirk:

 

“It’s go time.”

 

x

 

We stormed the island, leading the Screaming Death towards it. We found it already half-destroyed from whispering deaths, the overhead bars of the arena had collapsed, and Hiccup and Toothless were standing in the midst of the chaos.

 

“Whoa, this is chaos on a level I've never seen before!” Tuffnut gasped. Ruffnut sighed dreamily, “I know. I want to live here.” Tuff nodded, “Forever!”

 

Below us, Hiccup laughed, “boy,” his eyes seemed to glow with glee, “am I glad to see you guys.” Astrid huffed, “Don't thank us yet,” she warned, “Things are about to get a lot crazier.“ I smirked, meeting his gaze, “you ready to rock, Dragon-dork?”

 

Hiccup met me with a smirk of his own, and took to the sky.

 

He looked every bit the Viking Prince he was. Then again, who needed a prince on a white steed when you had a one-legged Viking on a dragon?

 

Hiccup’s plan worked, surprisingly. The screaming death did, in fact, only want to find it’s mother. Once it had, they’d left peacefully.

 

Well. after roaring in Hiccup’s face.

 

We reunited on the ground, and the first thing Astrid did was playfully punch his shoulder. The first thing I did was flick his forehead, then I hugged him.

 

Relief escaped me in a sigh as I felt his body against mine. He was real. He was _here. Alive._

His arms wrapped around my body, and for the first time, I hugged him long enough for him to reciprocate.


	12. Snoggletogg Dances

**Eira**

My first Snoggletogg was that year.

 

It was the same time of year in which most dragons would go to have their babies, and thus, leave us for a few days. In those days, Berk looked empty, apart from dejected Vikings here and there. Apparently, the first time this had happened, everyone was even more sad, seeming to mourn the loss of their pets.

 

Well, that’s what Astrid had told me.

 

In the week building up to Snoggletogg, the only dragon on the island was Toothless. To me, that meant he really was the last Night Fury, but I kept that to myself.

 

It was finally Snoggletogg eve, and as it was tradition, the entire village gathered in the great hall to celebrate with food and gifts. The idea was for people to give their close friends gifts, but no one was that put off if you didn’t get them a gift. I’d gone with something that, to me, felt like a quick fix:

 

I’d gathered scales the dragons had shed, and I bor a hole into each of them, before threading them onto thin chains, or ropes. Deadly Nadder, Hideous Zippelback, Monstrous Nightmare, Gronckle, Night Fury—all were there. Onto each of them, I painted the dragons’ names, before wrapping them in a thin sheet of parchment.

 

As we exchanged gifts amongst ourselves, music played in the distance, and Vikings laughed, danced, ate and made merry. I was so distracted, I hadn’t realized we’d started exchanging gifts until Toothless drew my attention with a whimper.

 

We finally exchanged gifts, and I realized that Hiccup was the best at doing so.

 

Fishlegs got everyone polished rocks he’d found with Meatlug. Snotlout gave us each a shield with a painting of him on it, comission by Snotlout to Bucket. The twins gave us each a ‘free pass’ for pranks—meaning, that if used, they wouldn’t prank us that day. Lucky us. Astrid had made a cookbook, and (terrible) cookies.

 

Hiccup—fucking, Fishbone Viking Prince bastard Dragon Dork—Haddock got each of us individual gifts. But, I didn’t stick around to receive mine, as the group began to reminisce about the ‘old days’.

 

The ones where I wasn’t here.

 

With a sigh, I got up, and made my way to the beach. There, I sat down on a boulder, glaring at the ocean, cold waves breaking on the shore. My mind drifted off, and I dozed a while, not noticing how Toothless curled around me, and Hiccup joined me until I felt the latter’s weight on my side.

 

I abruptly raised my head, finding myself eye-to-eye with bright green eyes and a lopsided, worried smile.

 

“Hey.”

 

I rolled my eyes, unable to stifle my smile.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Why’d you leave?”

 

I laughed, “straight to the point, as always.”

 

Hiccup shrugged, sitting down beside me. “Well, you should be used to it--you’re no different.” He blinked, then nodded, “fair enough.”

 

For a moment, no one spoke. Then, he repeated himself: “Why’d you leave?”

 

I hummed, shrugging listlessly, “you were all talking about the past,” I shrugged, “I didn’t want to intterrupt.” Hiccup frowned, and I could tell he was confused. I rolled my eyes with the click of my tongue.

 

“I don’t get you,” he confessed. I sighed, but before I could speak, he said: “but at the same time: I understand what you mean.”

 

I blinked, looking at him sideways as he spoke:

 

“Back before…the whole, Red Death Drama…I wasn’t really a part of their…clique. I was just an extra. i….think they tended to forget I existed, apart from Fishlegs. It was…lonely. I kept trying to prove myself—”

 

“Which explains your pride complex,”

 

“—whatever, my point is: I get what you mean,” he dug into his pocket, “and I’m here to tell you that I _get_ it, and if you want to talk—I’m here.”

 

He handed me a book-shaped package, with a smile, “happy Snoggletogg, Eira.” My eyes glanced to the package, then his face before I finally took the gift.

 

 

I quirked my brow at him in suspicion, but pulled the ribbon keeping the package tied. The paper unraveled easily, and when it did, I was met with a more than breathtaking sight.

 

On the cover, Hiccup had painted us—the riders—and our dragons, not only in full color, but with a beautiful sky blue background. Over us, he’d written the words: “The Story of Us”

 

“It’s our story thus far,” he explained, “well. Retellings of some of the adventures we’ve had—when we met, Heather, the Flightmare, Thawfest—they’re all in there.”

 

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head.

 

He whimpered, “do you…not like it?”

 

“Hiccup,” I said, stifling my laugh, trying to stay serious as I looked at him from under my bangs, “I don’t like it—” he began to deflate, “—I _love_ it.”

 

I hugged him, which apparently caught him off guard, then, when I removed myself from him, I hummed:

 

“Thank you.”

 

He huffed a laugh, nudging me slightly with his elbow, “you’re welcome.”

 

**Hiccup**

“You’re welcome.”

 

For a while, we just sat there, arm to arm, staring at the setting sun. I risked a glance at her, and found myself staring upon seeing her.

 

Her brown hair wasn’t currently in their twin braids, instead, it flowed freely, messily over her shoulder, and her features were illuminated by the sun, casting her in a golden glow, and making my breath hitch. She’d ditched her usual shoulder-gear, and was actually wearing boots now. Her leather circlet was still in place, and white dragon-tooth earrings hung from pierced ears.

 

She was stunning.

 

Seeing her like this made me think about all the adventures we’d shared, all the times she’d refused to let me do something on my own, or got angry when I risked my life.

 

It made me wonder what it would be like to kiss the smile off gold-painted lips.

 

_Wait…what?_

In that moment, the music carried outside, and faintly reached our ears. We turned in time to watch Vikings stroll out of the great hall, and fill the plaza, dancing and laughing as they went. I glanced to Eira. I stood up, and bowed theatrically, asking her with an offered hand:

 

“May I have this dance?”

 

She looked at my hand, eyes wide, then quirked a brow as her gaze met mine, “Hiccup, I don’t know how to dance.” I shrugged, prompty setting her gift aside, and pulling her to her feet, “then it’s high time you learned.”

 

She giggled, and I began to dance with her. I gave her pointers here and there, but she barely needed them after I told her to just move to the rhythym. Eventually, we just started spinning, hands intertwined, and I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from escaping.

 

She was enchanting, and I knew that, now.

I realized I was in love with her as we collapsed on the beach, limbs tangled as we laughed.


	13. Stranded

**Hiccup**

Two years have passed since the war with the Beserkers, and us riders have been busy sinking various Dragon Trapper ships, and researching other speci, along with the odd relocation mission here and there. Despite the joy it brought us, something seemed to be bothering Eira.

 

We were on a duo-mission together when I addressed it. We had just relocated a rogue Tide Glider, who’d taken a liking to Eira as we redirected him to open waters.

 

“Is something wrong?” I asked, causing her to perk up, “you seem…” I gestured with my hand, searching for an accurate word, “sad, somehow.” Eira glanced at me, then sighed.

 

“Just…homesick, I guess,” she shrugged, then forced a laugh, “that Tide Glider kind of reminded me of where I grew up.” I hummed as she turned her attention back to the waves below us. If I learned anything from almost two years of being her friend, it was that she had a strange fascination with the ocean that seemed to stretch forever.

 

“Well,” I spoke up, “do you know where it is?”

 

She blinked, then scoffed, “of course I do. Who do you think I am?”

 

I grinned, “Great,” I halted Toothless, and Eira stopped Skipper, “then you go pay your family a visit. Toothless and I will head back to Berk.”

 

She blinked, eyes widening, and jaw dropping, before she managed to choke out: “What? Hiccup, I—I can’t. we have work to do, I have, I can’t let Noah take care of the dragons on his own, and! And what about Astrid’s birthday party tomorrow?” I waved her off, “I’ll tell her something came up. You won’t do any of us any good if you’re sick with worry.”

 

She grimaced, “it’s not so much worry, and it is…just. Missing them.” I shrugged, “same thing. I’ll take care of Astrid. Just…be back within a week, okay?”

 

Eira’s expression turned to glee, and she cheered:

 

“Oh, Hiccup! I could just kiss you right now!”

 

My face immediately caught on fire, and I laughed nervously, “Well, I—uh—” she turned to leave, waving as she did, “You’re the best!” she said, before rising above the clouds.

 

I gazed after her, before returning to Berk.

 

Xxx

 

**Eira**

Tide Glider island, a tropical place with milelong beaches, crystallike grottos, and huge numbers of Tidal Class dragons—along with a few Dramillions. It lied right on the border of the Archipelago, a bank of smoke scaring most dragons off it’s beaches.

 

It was paradise.

 

Today, it was overrun with dozens of hatchlings, all of which were eager to meet me. I reunited with my siblings, and even made peace with a still-angry-that-I-left Shockjaw. I returned to the cave where my mentor and I had stayed, and collected some spare things I found: recipes, clothes, knives made of Nadder spines.

 

 I spent 3 days winning back the dragons’ trust, before setting out again.

 

Unfortunately, I wasn’t expecting a storm to appear out of nowhere. . I latched onto my dragon’s neck and tight as possible, praying to Thor that we’d at least make it to an island nearby in one piece.

 

As lightning strikes a little too close for comfort, Skipper avoids it with difficulty.

 

“Careful, boy!” I warn, urging him to turn, “let’s get out of here, hmm?” I spur the violet Dramillion on, and we rush between strikes of lightning and flying debris.

 

“WHOO HOOOOOO!” I cheer, raising my fists into the air.

 

 However, our joy doesn’t last long, for we are suddenly knocked off course by a slab of wood crashing into us. Then, before I can register any pain, I feel the weight of the ocean slapping my back as I fall into endless blue.

 

Cold.

 

Darkness.

 

 

I come to with a groan, wrapped in the warm wings of my draconic friend. I feel sand beneath my skin, and see trees above us. I tap Skipper’s cheek, and his eyes open with a start.

 

“I’m okay,” I assure his worried expression as I climb into the sunlight, “you saved my life, pal.” I grunt as I right myself, patting my clothes down. I glance around, and find myself standing on the line where a bone-white beach meets lush forest. I spend a few moments exploring the washed up remnants of a shipwreck, searching for a weapon. I eventually find a less-than-ideal axe, in a less-than-optimal shape, but I shrug, hoping it’ll do if I cross any hunters out here. I also assess, with great relief, that my knives are still all on my person.

 

Skipper won’t be able to fly long distance on the low stamina he has left, and I have yet to figure out which way is north. As I and Skipper venture across the beach, I hear a voice in the distance:

 

“Go on! Tie ‘im up real goo’! Grimmel’s gonn’ love this guy!”

 

I frown, meeting Skipper’s eye. Skipper shrugs, and I motion for him to sneak. We approach a cliff overlooking the beach and settle atop it, bodies lying flat to the grass. From my new vantage point I had a clear view of the dragon trappers tying up a bright blue Deathly Galeslash, with soft red accents.

 

The Deathly Galeslash is a Tracker and Sharp class dragon, and a crossbreed between Stormcutters and Deadly Nadders. Their fire is a fusion of both dragons’ fire—a magnesium flame torus. They have two pairs of wings, a crown on spines, a very sharp-scaled three finned tail, head frills and an overbite. Their bodies are less bulky compared to a Nadder’s, and their wings allow for increased speed (level 17, presumably) and air current detection. They also have incredibly keen eyes, and fearful maneuverability. Despite not being all that rare, the gang and I have yet to see one.

 

But these Trappers had one. And a female.

 

 

A hunter kicks the dragon, and another growls, “don’t kill it! It’s Grimmel’s right! With this little girl…the boss’ll have single handedly run the Galeslash to extinction!”

 

As he laughs, I bare my teeth, as human as they are, in my mouth they look more like fangs. I feel adrenaline spike my veins, and I glance at Skipper. Skipper is already growling, getting ready to pounce. Before I think twice, I jump onto his back, and descend upon the amateur trappers.

 

“Get ‘em, pal!” I yell as I jump off his back, sticking the landing on top of an iron cage. Skipper fires plasma blasts at the ship, and I jump onto the deck. As hunters split up—some defending the boat, others charging for me—I call to the Deathly Galeslash:

 

“Don’t worry!” I smack someone with the flat of my axe, “we’re here to help!” I assure, tripping another. I run over to the trapped fury and in a quick swipe, cut the net open. In that moment I hear a familiar howl. I turn just in time to see Skipper plummet to the ocean.

 

“No!” I scream, already chasing after him, but the Galeslash is quick, and lifts off, the force of it blows my hair out of my face, as she rushes to catch the dramillion. The ship is sinking, and I only have a small frame of time to hop off before it becomes my deathbed.

 

I drop onto the sand with my entire body, torso slamming onto the dirt. I grunt, before running after the Galeslash. I run into the forest, eyes skittling across the greenery, until I spot marks of a rough landing. I follow the trail, and at the center of the island I find the Galeslash and Skipper.

 

“Skipper!” I shout, running across the clearing, jumping over fallen logs until I reach my dragon. Before I can get close enough, however, the Galeslash puts it’s body between us and growls at me. I stumble back, and my butt meets grass ground with a dull thud.

 

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” I hiss, moving to crouch in front of the dragon. The Galeslash is breathing heavy, scars littering her skin. I almost raise my axe, but as I prepare to, she roars at me. I flinch back, and realize:

 

“She’s protecting Skipper.”

 

I smile.

 

My smile drops at the whimper Skipper gives. I furrow my brows at the Galeslash, “I’m not going to hurt you,” I say, unhooking my knife-bag from my waist, and depositing both axe and knives to a nearby decline in the grass. I raise my hands in defense, “I’m a friend.”  The Galeslash creeps to me, sniffing me slowly. Eventually, she relaxes, licking my face with a flag tongue. I wipe off the saliva, and smile. However, the moment is interrupted by Skipper’s whimper, and my smile falls.

 

I jog to sit by hit head, and he looks at me with big eyes.

 

“Don’t worry,” I whisper, as the Galeslash nudges his head, “I’m going to get help.” I stand up, facing the other dragon, who has his head tilted in his curiosity, now. I tilt my head in a mirroring motion, “care to give me a quick lift?”

 

The roar, and nod, she gives me is enough for me. with no time to waste I climb onto her back and guide her towards Berk.

 

Towards my new Home.

 

 

**_Hiccup_ **

There wasn’t much that came to a surprise these days. Not since the war ended. Of course, my friends and I were still traveling the Archipelago for other dragons, but we’d come up empty handed.

 

Usually.

 

So, I think you can imagine the surprise I felt upon seeing a blue dragon with four wings approach Gothi and Noah’s shop.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I say, holding my hands up as the dragon stops. Immediately, Eira’s head pokes out from over it’s crown of spines, and I gasp, “what, Eira?” I shake my head, “You found a new type of dragon?” my brows furrow, “Where’s Skipper? What happened?” Eira shakes her head, “I’ll explain later,” she promises, eyes gleaming in worry, “Skipper…he’s…he’s injured.”

 

Noah nods, wordlessly, and runs off to get his Sand Wraith, Sandstorm. I turn to Eira.

 

“Eira, please, talk to me,” I beg, “what’s going on?” Toothless roars at the dragon, who answers with a mewl. Eira sighs, “I got surprised by a storm,” she explains, “It knocked us off course, to some island where we found trappers. They had this girl,” she pets the dragon, “so we rushed in to free her. Skipper got…hurt. Hiccup—”

 

I nod, interrupting her, “we’re coming too.” She blinks, then nods.

 

Soon the riders and Noah—led by Eira-- approached a small island with a long beach, lush forest and a docking point. “He’s in the forest!” Eira pointed out, and we made a beeline for the greenery. We landed our dragons, in favor of continuing by foot.

 

When the trees clear, revealing a dimly lit clearing, I stop the riders from advancing.

 

“What is it, Hiccup?” Astrid asks as I let Noah and Eira advance, “Skipper is in pain,” I explained, “and probably scared. It wouldn’t help to stress him out by getting to close.” Snotlout scoffs, arms crossed, “then what was the point in coming at all?” Astrid rolls her eyes, “Eira might need us, for emotional support, you apathetic jerk.”

 

After a few minutes, Noah sends Eira back to us. I fully expect her to come in for a hug, but instead she walks to a nearby tree, and…climbs it. She settles on a branch, face buried in her knees. I glance at Astrid, who she is closest with, aside from me, and nudge her to the tree. Astrid nods, walking over.

 

 

“So,” Fishlegs addresses me, “what do you think?” with difficulty, I tear my gaze from the girls, turning to look at Fishlegs. “I…” my shoulders sag, “I’m not sure. This island isn’t exactly close…we might be too late already.”

 

 

“Eira,” Noah’s voice interrupts the conversations, and Eira jumps off the branch, rushing to Skipper’s side. Noah says something I can’t hear, and the next thing I know, Eira is pressing her ear to where Skipper’s heart should…

 

_Oh._

A second passed.

 

And then another.

 

And then she screamed at the sky as tears stained her cheeks, and her arms wrapped around the Dramillion’s neck.

 

And I felt my heart break.

 

Eira stands at the front of the docks as the boat with Skipper sails off, reciting the words we’d only just told her. 

 

“ _There do I see my father, my mother, and my brothers and my sisters. They bid me take my place among them in the halls of Valhalla... where the brave shall live forever.”_

As the last word falls from her lips, she releases her grip on the arrow, and it soars in a high curve, landing on the ship with a dull thud. Next, I let go, then Astrid, Noah, Fishlegs, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut. The entire ship goes up in flames, and I watch it.

 

I look at Eira as she so desperately tries to refrain from crying.

 

“You know,” I say, slowly approaching her, and place a hand on her back, “showing you care…it isn’t a weakness.” I place my hand on her shoulder, and all at once, the dam breaks, and she buries her face in my chest, letting her tears roll free.

 

The moisture stains my shirt, but I could not care less about it as I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, grounding her.

 

“He was…” she hiccuped, “my best friend. My…” a sob, “brother.”

 

I bite my lip, pulling her closer. “I know,” I whisper into her brown hair, “I’m sorry.”

 

Xxx

 

As we return to Berk, Astrid addresses the dragon in the room.

 

“So, does this mean we have a new dragon on the team?”

 

Eira hums, looking at the dragon—who she’d told us was a Galeslash. The dragon roars happily, making her laugh, teary-eyed.

 

“Guess so,” she says, and I smile. “Well,” I urge, “what’s her name?” Eira bites her lip, “I…wasn’t expecting to name a dragon today…or, having to.” I nod, giving her space to think.

 

As Berk comes into view, the dragon squeaks, then releases a magnesium torus in her glee.

 

“Okay Saphhire,” she laughs, patting her head as they emerge from within the fire, “settle down.”

 

“Saphhire?” Snotlout repeats, “really?” Eira smirks, “it was either that or Blue!” she defends as she urges her new friend to a higher speed.

 

I laugh as I urge Toothless to catch up with her.


	14. Rise of The Dragon Racers

 

> _**Part Two: Race To The Edge** _
> 
> " _In every world,_
> 
> _every lifetime,_
> 
> _every reincarnation,_
> 
> _I'll chose you._
> 
> _Always._ " 
> 
> _**Chapter 14: Rise of The Dragon Racers** _

**Eira**

I’m going to be completely honest here: I never expect Hiccup to be standing outside my house in the mornings.

 

Skipper and I were notorious for our sunrise-flights, as well as nightly ones—though those were accompanied by Hiccup and Toothless—and seeing as Saphhire quite enjoyed them too, the tradition prevailed.

 

But I never took Hiccup for an early riser.

 

“Hiccup,” I gasp, eyes widening, “What are you doing up so early?”

 

Hiccup’s cheeks are lightly flushed as he shrugs, “oh you know,” he says. I frown, brow quirked, “Actually, no, I don’t know.” Hiccup blinks, then presses his hips together, “No. You don’t. You…couldn’t know.”

 

“Well,” I hum, stepping outside, “what should I be knowing here?”

 

Hiccup’s tongue dart out to wet his lips, and my eyes involuntarily follow the movement, “I uh,” he stammers, “I just. Well. I thought, hey, it’s such a beautiful morning, why not take a fly around the island! And,” his head gestured vaguely, “and I know you do that, regularly, so. Hey. Why don’t I tag along?”

 

I study him, clearly not buying most of what he said, but I relent. After all, I’m not one to turn down the suggestion of company.

 

“Okay,” I shrug, “sure. Tag along.”

 

Hiccup sighs in relief, and he offers me a smile. I grin, leading the way to the stable placed beside my home.

 

We take to the sky after the dragons greet each other, cheerfully.

 

 

 

After a brief series of loops and barrel rolls, we move to fly over the clouds. I use the chance to ask him:

 

“So. Why in Odin’s name did you want to be the first to talk to me?”

 

Hiccup flinches, then grimaces, “you knew?”

 

I laugh, “please, Hiccup,” I drawl, “you a master of many things, but subtly is not one of them.”  He rolls his eyes as I cackle, and we draw closer to one another.

 

“So,” he takes a deep breath, “Okay, this, uh…okay wow uh. I didn’t think I’d get this far,” I snort as he stammers, “so you see—no, wait. Let me-“

 

“out with it, Hiccup,” I growl, growing tired of his nervous attitude.

 

“Okay,” he sighs, “okay.” I don’t understand why he’s struggling with this. We’re best friends, and we speak about everything with one another. Well, aside from Spitelout’s abusive tendencies, but that’s different—

 

“on Berk,” he interrupts my train of thought, “when courting a man, his partner will traditionally…er…err…braid. His. His hair.”

 

I frown, at first, failing to see why he felt the need to tell me, before it clicks.

 

“Oh,” I deadpan.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, I—well I certainly didn’t…you know I—”

 

“I know! It’s just, Gobber and my dad, well, they thought—”

 

“I mean, you can take them out if—”

 

“No!”

 

I blink in surprise at his obvious protest. He catches himself, and regains a level of embarrassment that is normal for him, “I…I mean. I don’t mind it. I uh…like it. Actually.”

 

I nod, avoiding his gaze as I press my lips together.

 

“I mean,” he scoffs, “it’s a dumb tradition anyway. I mean,” he laughs, “stupid.”

 

I study him for a second, and as we land on a seastack, I chuckle.

 

“Yeah,” I say, a little disappointed for some reason, then smirk, “I mean. Not like we’d ever. You know.”

 

He forces a laugh, “No, yeah!” he chuckles, “no way, right?”

 

After a moment of awkward silence, I huff.

 

“Well,” I laugh, “we should. Maybe. Get going.”

 

Hiccup’s reluctance is obvious at the deep sigh he gives.

 

“Or,” I smirk, nudging him, “We could keep flying.”

 

Hiccup smiles, eyes alight, and he chuckles.

 

“If you can catch me,” he whispers, before sprinting to Toothless, and whistling for the dragon to pick him up. As they take off, I mirror his actions with Saphhire.

 

“Come on, Girl!” I laugh, “let’s show ‘im!”

 

Xxx

 

The day ends up being longer than we anticipated.

 

It starts with Astrid catching up to Hiccup and me on our flight, only to tell us she’s joining the Berk Guard, and advise us to find something other than Dragons to focus on. But, Hiccup and I don’t really know what to focus on, which is why we’ve been sticking to dragons so long.

 

Hiccup and I have lunch with Stoick.

 

As we walk through the door, Stoick fixes us with a surprised look.

 

“Hiccup and Eira,” he sighs, “what are you two doin’ back so early?”

 

Hiccup and I blink, sharing a look, before Hiccup strolls over to the stairs, leaning against them as I lean against the door frame, “Oh, I just...” he huffs, “wanted to spend some time with my dear old dad. Yeah, you know, we never get to talk anymore. So...”

 

Really? I stand firm in my belief that Hiccup is the smartest Viking alive, but sometimes he just…is also the biggest idiot out there.

 

“Alright,“ Stoick sighs, setting down his mug, „What is it?“

 

Hiccup chuckles, nervously, “what’s what?”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Can’t a son spend some quality time with his family?”

 

Stoick huffs, “Not this one. Not usually, at least. And especially not with his best friend in the room,” he glances at me, “so, let’s hear it.”

 

Hiccup sighs, taking a seat at the table, and I draw closer, sitting down on the steps, “All right,” he hums, “did you know Astrid joined the Berk Guard?”

 

“I heard that,” Stoick confirmed, “good for her.”

 

“And the other riders have got their different things going on?”

 

Stoick frowns, setting down his mug again, “what are you saying, son?”

 

Hiccup sighs, and with great difficulty, forces himself to speak: “I’m saying. I don’t know. Maybe it’s time for me—”

 

He didn’t get to finish saying _get started on my chiefly duties_ when Tuff and Ruff bursted through the door, carrying a very pale Johann.

 

Stoick stands, immediately, “Johann!” he exclaims, “What happened to you?”

 

The Trader groans, “ooh…Dagur!”

 

I furrow my brows, and growl, “what about him?”

 

“Hes out!” the trader exclaims, and my eyes widen, and I briefly meet Hiccup’s gaze, “He’s more Beserk than ever! And, from the way he was talking, Hiccup, you are number one on his revenge list!”

 

And that was the last thing he says before passing out.

 

I glance to Hiccup, and, as expected, he says: “Twins, get Johann to a bed, Eira, round up the others and meet me in the arena.” I nod, immediately slipping out between the door frame and Tuff, and whistling for Saphhire.

 

Xxx

 

About half an hour later, we’re gathered in the arena, discussing what Johann told us.

 

“All we got from Johann before he passed out was this,” Hiccup says, “Dagur escaped from Outcast Island by commandeering his ship,” he points to a place on the map, “he threw Johann overboard about here.”

 

“Oh,” Snotlout nods, “so what you’re saying is:” his voice turns to a growl, “Dagur could be anywhere by now.”

 

“Essentially,” I shrug, “yes.”

 

“Oh great,” Snotlout deadpans, “Great, great. So, that just leaves, I don’t know, let me think…” he begins to shout, flailing his arms, “THE ENTIRE OCEAN TO SEARCH!?” he scoffs, “No, thank you!”

 

I roll my eyes, “oh come on you big baby, we’ve done far more risky stuff than searching the ocean for a deranged dude.”

 

Just then, Johann enters.

 

“Master Hiccup,” he hums, and Hiccup smiles, “Johann, you’re awake.” I smile, “how are you feeling?”

 

Johann hums, smiling, “Much better, thank you for asking miss Ira.” He grows serious, “more importantly, I have more than a sneaking suspicion of where our nefarious foe may be heading.”

 

Hiccup, almost hopefully, asks: “Outside the Archipelago?”

 

“No!” Johann protests, “just inside the fog bank on our outer group of islands.”

 

Hiccup frowns, “We’ve never been out that far.” I shrug, “I have.” Snotlout rolls his eyes, groaning: “You’re an outlier and should not be counted.” Astrid huffs, arms crossed, “do you even know what that means?”

 

“When Dagur commandeered my precious ship,” Johann continues, “he also came into possession of a very valuable map…one that leads to a graveyard of ships hidden in the bank.”

 

“Wow!” Snotlout gasps, sarcastic, “that’s the first place I’d go.”

 

Johann deadpans, “If I may be allowed to finish?”

 

“Johann, last time we allowed you to finish, we ended up on Breakneck Bog. So, no. no finishing.”

 

Hiccup grunts, “Enough!” he snaps at Snotlout, then, turning a softer gaze to Johann, “what’s so special about the graveyard—”

 

“And why would he go there?” I add. Johann hums, “Well, you see—” Hiccup huffs, “the short version, please.”

 

Johann blinks, dull. “It’s where I store all my treasures and wares.”

 

Our eyes widen, and Tuff huffs, “wow. Concise, to the point. Who knew he had it in him?”

 

“Which remind me of the first time I was labelled as concise!” Johann sings, “he was a young man, very ugly—”

 

“Johann,” I interrupt. “Yes?” “Focus.” Hiccup hums, “Is  there anything else?”

 

Johann hums, “As a matter of fact, there is a ship you must avoid at all costs. It’s called…” he pauses, for dramatic effect, “the Reaper. Riddled with booby traps from stem to stern. Barely made it out with my life—the only time I dared venture aboard.”

 

I nod, “Right. Noted, Reaper? Bad.”

 

Hiccup nods, “Okay, Toothless, Ira,” he smiles, “let’s go.” He turns his gaze to the riders, “Unless,” he smirks, “any of you can make time in your busy schedule to capture a dangerous maniac?”

 

Xxx

 

A few hours later, the sun has already set, we arrive at the shipyard. Almost immediately, we split up to find Dagur, assuming he’s already found the place. After about 30 minutes, we regroup—no one has found any sign of him.

 

 

 

“Not a sign of Dagur,” I say, slipping off Saphhire’s back and landing on the deck. Astrid hums, “looks like we got here first. What’s the plan?” Hiccup glances around, then nods, “we wait.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Fishlegs says, “for how long? This really gives Meatlug the willies.”

 

I quirk a brow, “Meatlug has the willies?” I ask, “as opposed to yourself, of course.”

 

“Of course,” he echoes. I roll my eyes.

 

“He has a point, though,” Astrid says, “we can’t wait here forever.”

 

“We can’t leave all this treasure here, either,” I cut in, “Dagur would be able to rebuild his armada.”

 

Ruff hums, “Not if we steal them first!”

 

Tuff scoffs, “that is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard!” he crosses his arms, “I hereby disown you.”

 

“Actually,” Hiccup perks up, “you know  what? I like it!”

 

Tuff uncrosses his arms, “Welcome back to the family.”

 

“Here’s the plan,” Hiccup says, “we search the ships, gather Johann’s treasure, and take it back to Berk. but keep your eyes open for Dagur. He could show up anytime.”

 

As I nod, a loud hissing causes us to flinch. Astrid immediately assumes a defensive stance, “What is that?” Tuff frowns, “has Dagur’s voice changed?”

 

Then, Hiccup catches sight of what had been causing the noise:

 

“Eels!” he shouts, “Everybody! Get to your dragons before they get spooked and take off!”

 

I hiss, sprinting to Saphhire, but, in that moment, she and the other dragons take off. Chaos breaks out, and amongst our panic, the dragons take off, and the eels wrap around the ship, pulling it down, and as it stands upright in the water, Fishlegs whimpers: “The eels are pulling the ship down!”

 

As we slip, Snotlout grabs ahold of a mast, and shouts, “Fishlegs, grab my foot!” Fishlegs does as asked, and Snotlout grunts, “You ate a full breakfast!” and as we all follow Fishlegs’ lead, he oofs, “you ate everybody’s breakfast!”

 

“We’re gonna live!” Tuff cheers, but, at that moment, I lose my grip of Astrid’s foot, and plummet towards the ocean.

 

“Hiccup!” I cry out, reaching for him before cold ocean water surrounds me. the Eels turn their attention to me, and I whip out my signature knife, and wave it around, when a plasma blast chases them off. When I whirl around, Hiccup and Toothless are reaching for me. I grab Hiccup’s hand, letting him pull me onto Toothless’ back.

 

We emerge again, and I thank him before he drops me on the ship again. After Hiccup asks me if I’m okay (“Are you cold?” “I’m _fine_.” “Not answering my question.”) Snotlout complains about not being warned about the Eels, but Hiccup says that the dragons will be back, and we should resume with our plan.

 

Almost immediately, his gaze is casted towards the Reaper.

 

“Are you thinking about checking it out?” I ask. He meets my gaze, nodding, “Yeah.  You coming?” the fact that he asks makes me smile, and I climb onto Toothless, deadpanning, “Like you even have to ask.”

 

As soon as we set our feet on the deck of the ship, I shudder, all senses on high alert. My eyes scan the deck, spotting green cages, winches and crates. The sails are painted with a seal I don’t recognize, but sends a spark of fear down my spine, causing me to brushing my fingers over Hiccup’s arm, just to make sure he’s still there. Sensing my fear, Toothless nudges me. I smile.

 

“This boat definitely isn’t from the Archipelago,” Hiccup muses. I huff, “Great observatory skills, sherlock.” He freezes, turning to me, head tilted, “Sherlock?” I shrug, “Twins.” He nods, focusing on the ship again.

 

“Check out these carvings,” he runs a hand over the painted deck, “the crests…I’ve never seen anything like it,” I hum, running my hand over the cage metal, “and this metal,” I hum. Hiccup and Toothless join me, and Toothless growls at the cage. Hiccup pats him, reassuring him, “come on bud, it’s just an empty cage.”

 

A bird shrieks, making all three of us flinch, before it flies off, over our heads.

 

“okay,” I hum, pointedly, “ _now_ it’s an empty cage.”

 

Hiccup rolls his eyes, and we continue our trek. Toothless tries to stop us by standing still, stubbornly, but ultimately it’s effect is reversed, and Hiccup releases a trap. The trap is a rope designed to pull whoever’s standing in the loop off the ship. As he is tugged away, I shout: “ _Hiccup_!”

 

Before he can go overboard, Toothless shoots the rope. Hiccup slams into the railing, still, and I rush over to check on him.

 

“You okay?” I ask, hand on his shoulder as I scan his body. He swallows thickly, then nods, “m’ fine,” he furrows his brows, meeting my gaze, “Nobody goes through this much trouble unless there’s something they’re hiding.” I nod in agreement, “so, what are we waiting for?” I smirk, “nothing like some good old peril to start the night!”

 

As I lead the way, I feel his eyes on my back.

 

As he leads the way below deck, he also manages to step into a foot-trap (thank thor for his prosthetic), and activate an arrow trap before we reach the captain’s  quarters’ front door. The door is decorated quite detailed with jewels and carvings, but my focus is on Hiccup as I put my hands on my hips and quip:

 

“You’re great at this trap disablement thing,” I joke, and he groans, rolling his eyes. “Cut me some slack, will you?” he says, turning his gaze to the door. I mirror the gesture.

 

“Alright,” he hums, “here’s the plan—” but before he can explain, I shoot Toothless a look, and the dragon blasts the door open. Hiccup blinks, then stares at me for a second. I grin, puffing my chest out. “I like yours better,” he deadpans, promptly leading us into the cabin.

 

As we set foot into the room, our sights are focused on the cylinder shaped object, resting on a platform on the table, the deceased Captain’s skeletal hand resting on it. It’s intricately carved, filled with details.

 

“Wow,” I breathe, “What is it?”

 

Hiccup blinks, briefly glancing at me, before he steps closer, “No idea,” he shakes his head, “Whatever it is, if it’s on this ship it can’t be good for dragons.”

 

I nod, “which means?”

 

“Which means we’re not leaving it here for Dagur.”

 

 

He carefully moves to lift it with both hands, and I hiss a warning, “Careful, we don’t know what removing it will trigger.” He meets my gaze, nods, then ever-so-delicately plucks it off the pedastol.

 

“Huh,” he scoffs, stepping away, “Well, that wasn’t too—” he begins, only to be cut off by a giant axe slicing the desk, barely missing his face, “—GIANT AXE!” he shouts. I hiss, “Spoke too soon,” then grab his arm as I head for the door, “ _Run_!”  

 

When we finally emerge above deck, slamming the door shut, I glance up, and my blood freezes in my veins. Toothless gets ready to fire, but Hiccup holds him back.

 

“ _Dagur_ ,” I hiss, and Hiccup whispers to Toothless, “Hold, bud.”

 

Dagur laughs, maniacal and disturbing as ever, and it feels like no time has passed.

 

“Hiccup!” he cheers, way too happy to be anything but Psychotic. As he monologues, I vaguely register a cell behind him, and whip out my knife—precautions, you know—and assume a fighting stance. “Did you miss me?” he asks, “Cause I missed you,” his tone turns poisonous, “every day for three years, I thought about you.” He chuckles, fixing me with a disturbing look, “Ira, look how you’ve grown! Quite the looker now, are we?”

 

Before Hiccup can bark at him, I drawl, “Ah Dagur,” I point the blade in my hand at him, “Still the same psychopath, I see,” I remark, voice casual. Dagur laughs dryly, then steps aside, revealing—

 

“Guys!” I gasp, posture immediately tensing at the sight of the riders trapped in the green cage.

 

“Sorry, guys,” Astrid apologizes, “he got the drop on us.”

 

I open my mouth to reply, but Dagur interrupts, “Uh, quiet! Can’t you see, my brother, my lady and I are having a moment?”

 

“I’m not _your_ lady,” I growl, and Hiccup supplies, “I am not your brother, and we are not having a moment.”

 

Dagur huffs, rolling his eyes, “oh, well, I was.” He smirks, studying Hiccup, “look at you,” he drawls, “all grown up! And quite the ladies’ man, I’d wager. Hmmm? Hmm?”

 

I quirk a brow at him, wondering if that’s a nudge at the braids I’d weaved into his hair, but Hiccup just rolls his eyes and asks—no, demands:

 

“Dagur, what do you want?”

 

Behind the Beserker chief, Snotlout speaks up: “Duh,” he flips a mane of disembodied blonde hair, which he has pinned under his helmet, “he wants the jewels.” Before I can ask what the Hel is going on with the hair, Tuff grunts, “he’s not getting my family’s jewels. No way! And I’ll protect the at all costs!” he then glances at Snotlout, asking, “Also, what is with the hair?”

 

Snotlout huffs, “Ha! It’s royal hair, I’ll have you know.”

 

Dagur rolls his eyes, “Haven’t gotten rid of the Greek Chorus I see,” I growl, “anyway,” he continues, “yes, I’ll take the jewels.” He glances at Ruff, “his too.”

 

One of Dagur’s men punches Ruffnut in the gut, causing her to spill the jewels in her mouth. After spitting a leftover gem into the crew member’s eye, Dagur continues:

 

“Oops, thought that was the guy,” he shrugs, “Never can tell with those two.” He fixes us again, “and I’ll also take whatever it is you’re hiding behind your back,” he says, hand held out expectantly, “come on,” he sings, “hand it over like a good boy. Brothers share, you know.”

 

I scoff, “good thing you’re not brothers, then.”

 

“Oh my lady—” he retorts, a hand on his heart, and I hiss, “—how you wound me.”

 

Before our quips can escalate, Hiccup does the unexpected—he hands over the artifact.

 

I blink, surprised, then cross my arms, “Damn, Hiccup,” I hiss, “where’s that Viking Stubborness?” Dagur laugh, inspecting the object, “smart move, Hiccup.”

 

Hiccup ignores me, scoffing, “you know you’re not going to get very far with that thing, right?” he says. Dagur rolls his eyes, bored: “Oh, boy,” he sighs, rolling his head, “here we go. Must we always do the same dance, Hiccup, you and I?” he chuckles, “Not that you're not a fabulous dancer.“

 

Though i must agree on the dancing part, I join Toothless in growling at him. Hiccup holds the dragon back, “Not yet, bud.”

 

Dagur grins, “That's right, Mr Night Fury.” He hums, “Today is not the day, but it's coming!” his demeanor shifts to a low grumble, briefly, “And soon. Now,” he brightens again, “if you'll excuse me. I've got people to see, an army to build, revenge to plot. Ooh, so much to do and so little time! Isn't this exciting, Hiccup?” he grins, “You... You must have been so bored over the last three years.”

 

Tuffnut hums, nodding, “Yeah, he's got a point about that.” He smirks, “Not enough explosions.“

 

Dagur makes a theatric exit, “Alas, my time here has come to an end. Farewell, for now, brother. Until we meet again on the field of battle.”

 

Once he’s left the ship, Hiccup and I rush to open the cage.

 

“Go follow Dagur,” I urge, “I got this.”

 

He frowns, “you sure?” he asks. I nod, and Astrid reinforces my statement: “We’ll be fine, Hiccup! Go!”

 

He takes off, and I busy myself with the lock, not registering the boulder quickly approaching the deck.


	15. Dragon Eyes

**Eira**

I’m going to be completely honest here: I never expect Hiccup to be standing outside my house in the mornings.

 

Skipper and I were notorious for our sunrise-flights, as well as nightly ones—though those were accompanied by Hiccup and Toothless—and seeing as Saphhire quite enjoyed them too, the tradition prevailed.

 

But I never took Hiccup for an early riser.

 

“Hiccup,” I gasp, eyes widening, “What are you doing up so early?”

 

Hiccup’s cheeks are lightly flushed as he shrugs, “oh you know,” he says. I frown, brow quirked, “Actually, no, I don’t know.” Hiccup blinks, then presses his hips together, “No. You don’t. You…couldn’t know.”

 

“Well,” I hum, stepping outside, “what should I be knowing here?”

 

Hiccup’s tongue dart out to wet his lips, and my eyes involuntarily follow the movement, “I uh,” he stammers, “I just. Well. I thought, hey, it’s such a beautiful morning, why not take a fly around the island! And,” his head gestured vaguely, “and I know you do that, regularly, so. Hey. Why don’t I tag along?”

 

I study him, clearly not buying most of what he said, but I relent. After all, I’m not one to turn down the suggestion of company.

 

“Okay,” I shrug, “sure. Tag along.”

 

Hiccup sighs in relief, and he offers me a smile. I grin, leading the way to the stable placed beside my home.

 

We take to the sky after the dragons greet each other, cheerfully.

 

 

 

After a brief series of loops and barrel rolls, we move to fly over the clouds. I use the chance to ask him:

 

“So. Why in Odin’s name did you want to be the first to talk to me?”

 

Hiccup flinches, then grimaces, “you knew?”

 

I laugh, “please, Hiccup,” I drawl, “you a master of many things, but subtly is not one of them.”  He rolls his eyes as I cackle, and we draw closer to one another.

 

“So,” he takes a deep breath, “Okay, this, uh…okay wow uh. I didn’t think I’d get this far,” I snort as he stammers, “so you see—no, wait. Let me-“

 

“out with it, Hiccup,” I growl, growing tired of his nervous attitude.

 

“Okay,” he sighs, “okay.” I don’t understand why he’s struggling with this. We’re best friends, and we speak about everything with one another. Well, aside from Spitelout’s abusive tendencies, but that’s different—

 

“on Berk,” he interrupts my train of thought, “when courting a man, his partner will traditionally…er…err…braid. His. His hair.”

 

I frown, at first, failing to see why he felt the need to tell me, before it clicks.

 

“Oh,” I deadpan.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, I—well I certainly didn’t…you know I—”

 

“I know! It’s just, Gobber and my dad, well, they thought—”

 

“I mean, you can take them out if—”

 

“No!”

 

I blink in surprise at his obvious protest. He catches himself, and regains a level of embarrassment that is normal for him, “I…I mean. I don’t mind it. I uh…like it. Actually.”

 

I nod, avoiding his gaze as I press my lips together.

 

“I mean,” he scoffs, “it’s a dumb tradition anyway. I mean,” he laughs, “stupid.”

 

I study him for a second, and as we land on a seastack, I chuckle.

 

“Yeah,” I say, a little disappointed for some reason, then smirk, “I mean. Not like we’d ever. You know.”

 

He forces a laugh, “No, yeah!” he chuckles, “no way, right?”

 

After a moment of awkward silence, I huff.

 

“Well,” I laugh, “we should. Maybe. Get going.”

 

Hiccup’s reluctance is obvious at the deep sigh he gives.

 

“Or,” I smirk, nudging him, “We could keep flying.”

 

Hiccup smiles, eyes alight, and he chuckles.

 

“If you can catch me,” he whispers, before sprinting to Toothless, and whistling for the dragon to pick him up. As they take off, I mirror his actions with Saphhire.

 

“Come on, Girl!” I laugh, “let’s show ‘im!”

 

Xxx

 

The day ends up being longer than we anticipated.

 

It starts with Astrid catching up to Hiccup and me on our flight, only to tell us she’s joining the Berk Guard, and advise us to find something other than Dragons to focus on. But, Hiccup and I don’t really know what to focus on, which is why we’ve been sticking to dragons so long.

 

Hiccup and I have lunch with Stoick.

 

As we walk through the door, Stoick fixes us with a surprised look.

 

“Hiccup and Eira,” he sighs, “what are you two doin’ back so early?”

 

Hiccup and I blink, sharing a look, before Hiccup strolls over to the stairs, leaning against them as I lean against the door frame, “Oh, I just...” he huffs, “wanted to spend some time with my dear old dad. Yeah, you know, we never get to talk anymore. So...”

 

Really? I stand firm in my belief that Hiccup is the smartest Viking alive, but sometimes he just…is also the biggest idiot out there.

 

“Alright,“ Stoick sighs, setting down his mug, „What is it?“

 

Hiccup chuckles, nervously, “what’s what?”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Can’t a son spend some quality time with his family?”

 

Stoick huffs, “Not this one. Not usually, at least. And especially not with his best friend in the room,” he glances at me, “so, let’s hear it.”

 

Hiccup sighs, taking a seat at the table, and I draw closer, sitting down on the steps, “All right,” he hums, “did you know Astrid joined the Berk Guard?”

 

“I heard that,” Stoick confirmed, “good for her.”

 

“And the other riders have got their different things going on?”

 

Stoick frowns, setting down his mug again, “what are you saying, son?”

 

Hiccup sighs, and with great difficulty, forces himself to speak: “I’m saying. I don’t know. Maybe it’s time for me—”

 

He didn’t get to finish saying _get started on my chiefly duties_ when Tuff and Ruff bursted through the door, carrying a very pale Johann.

 

Stoick stands, immediately, “Johann!” he exclaims, “What happened to you?”

 

The Trader groans, “ooh…Dagur!”

 

I furrow my brows, and growl, “what about him?”

 

“Hes out!” the trader exclaims, and my eyes widen, and I briefly meet Hiccup’s gaze, “He’s more Beserk than ever! And, from the way he was talking, Hiccup, you are number one on his revenge list!”

 

And that was the last thing he says before passing out.

 

I glance to Hiccup, and, as expected, he says: “Twins, get Johann to a bed, Eira, round up the others and meet me in the arena.” I nod, immediately slipping out between the door frame and Tuff, and whistling for Saphhire.

 

Xxx

 

About half an hour later, we’re gathered in the arena, discussing what Johann told us.

 

“All we got from Johann before he passed out was this,” Hiccup says, “Dagur escaped from Outcast Island by commandeering his ship,” he points to a place on the map, “he threw Johann overboard about here.”

 

“Oh,” Snotlout nods, “so what you’re saying is:” his voice turns to a growl, “Dagur could be anywhere by now.”

 

“Essentially,” I shrug, “yes.”

 

“Oh great,” Snotlout deadpans, “Great, great. So, that just leaves, I don’t know, let me think…” he begins to shout, flailing his arms, “THE ENTIRE OCEAN TO SEARCH!?” he scoffs, “No, thank you!”

 

I roll my eyes, “oh come on you big baby, we’ve done far more risky stuff than searching the ocean for a deranged dude.”

 

Just then, Johann enters.

 

“Master Hiccup,” he hums, and Hiccup smiles, “Johann, you’re awake.” I smile, “how are you feeling?”

 

Johann hums, smiling, “Much better, thank you for asking miss Ira.” He grows serious, “more importantly, I have more than a sneaking suspicion of where our nefarious foe may be heading.”

 

Hiccup, almost hopefully, asks: “Outside the Archipelago?”

 

“No!” Johann protests, “just inside the fog bank on our outer group of islands.”

 

Hiccup frowns, “We’ve never been out that far.” I shrug, “I have.” Snotlout rolls his eyes, groaning: “You’re an outlier and should not be counted.” Astrid huffs, arms crossed, “do you even know what that means?”

 

“When Dagur commandeered my precious ship,” Johann continues, “he also came into possession of a very valuable map…one that leads to a graveyard of ships hidden in the bank.”

 

“Wow!” Snotlout gasps, sarcastic, “that’s the first place I’d go.”

 

Johann deadpans, “If I may be allowed to finish?”

 

“Johann, last time we allowed you to finish, we ended up on Breakneck Bog. So, no. no finishing.”

 

Hiccup grunts, “Enough!” he snaps at Snotlout, then, turning a softer gaze to Johann, “what’s so special about the graveyard—”

 

“And why would he go there?” I add. Johann hums, “Well, you see—” Hiccup huffs, “the short version, please.”

 

Johann blinks, dull. “It’s where I store all my treasures and wares.”

 

Our eyes widen, and Tuff huffs, “wow. Concise, to the point. Who knew he had it in him?”

 

“Which remind me of the first time I was labelled as concise!” Johann sings, “he was a young man, very ugly—”

 

“Johann,” I interrupt. “Yes?” “Focus.” Hiccup hums, “Is  there anything else?”

 

Johann hums, “As a matter of fact, there is a ship you must avoid at all costs. It’s called…” he pauses, for dramatic effect, “the Reaper. Riddled with booby traps from stem to stern. Barely made it out with my life—the only time I dared venture aboard.”

 

I nod, “Right. Noted, Reaper? Bad.”

 

Hiccup nods, “Okay, Toothless, Ira,” he smiles, “let’s go.” He turns his gaze to the riders, “Unless,” he smirks, “any of you can make time in your busy schedule to capture a dangerous maniac?”

 

Xxx

 

A few hours later, the sun has already set, we arrive at the shipyard. Almost immediately, we split up to find Dagur, assuming he’s already found the place. After about 30 minutes, we regroup—no one has found any sign of him.

 

 

 

“Not a sign of Dagur,” I say, slipping off Saphhire’s back and landing on the deck. Astrid hums, “looks like we got here first. What’s the plan?” Hiccup glances around, then nods, “we wait.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Fishlegs says, “for how long? This really gives Meatlug the willies.”

 

I quirk a brow, “Meatlug has the willies?” I ask, “as opposed to yourself, of course.”

 

“Of course,” he echoes. I roll my eyes.

 

“He has a point, though,” Astrid says, “we can’t wait here forever.”

 

“We can’t leave all this treasure here, either,” I cut in, “Dagur would be able to rebuild his armada.”

 

Ruff hums, “Not if we steal them first!”

 

Tuff scoffs, “that is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard!” he crosses his arms, “I hereby disown you.”

 

“Actually,” Hiccup perks up, “you know  what? I like it!”

 

Tuff uncrosses his arms, “Welcome back to the family.”

 

“Here’s the plan,” Hiccup says, “we search the ships, gather Johann’s treasure, and take it back to Berk. but keep your eyes open for Dagur. He could show up anytime.”

 

As I nod, a loud hissing causes us to flinch. Astrid immediately assumes a defensive stance, “What is that?” Tuff frowns, “has Dagur’s voice changed?”

 

Then, Hiccup catches sight of what had been causing the noise:

 

“Eels!” he shouts, “Everybody! Get to your dragons before they get spooked and take off!”

 

I hiss, sprinting to Saphhire, but, in that moment, she and the other dragons take off. Chaos breaks out, and amongst our panic, the dragons take off, and the eels wrap around the ship, pulling it down, and as it stands upright in the water, Fishlegs whimpers: “The eels are pulling the ship down!”

 

As we slip, Snotlout grabs ahold of a mast, and shouts, “Fishlegs, grab my foot!” Fishlegs does as asked, and Snotlout grunts, “You ate a full breakfast!” and as we all follow Fishlegs’ lead, he oofs, “you ate everybody’s breakfast!”

 

“We’re gonna live!” Tuff cheers, but, at that moment, I lose my grip of Astrid’s foot, and plummet towards the ocean.

 

“Hiccup!” I cry out, reaching for him before cold ocean water surrounds me. the Eels turn their attention to me, and I whip out my signature knife, and wave it around, when a plasma blast chases them off. When I whirl around, Hiccup and Toothless are reaching for me. I grab Hiccup’s hand, letting him pull me onto Toothless’ back.

 

We emerge again, and I thank him before he drops me on the ship again. After Hiccup asks me if I’m okay (“Are you cold?” “I’m _fine_.” “Not answering my question.”) Snotlout complains about not being warned about the Eels, but Hiccup says that the dragons will be back, and we should resume with our plan.

 

Almost immediately, his gaze is casted towards the Reaper.

 

“Are you thinking about checking it out?” I ask. He meets my gaze, nodding, “Yeah.  You coming?” the fact that he asks makes me smile, and I climb onto Toothless, deadpanning, “Like you even have to ask.”

 

As soon as we set our feet on the deck of the ship, I shudder, all senses on high alert. My eyes scan the deck, spotting green cages, winches and crates. The sails are painted with a seal I don’t recognize, but sends a spark of fear down my spine, causing me to brushing my fingers over Hiccup’s arm, just to make sure he’s still there. Sensing my fear, Toothless nudges me. I smile.

 

“This boat definitely isn’t from the Archipelago,” Hiccup muses. I huff, “Great observatory skills, sherlock.” He freezes, turning to me, head tilted, “Sherlock?” I shrug, “Twins.” He nods, focusing on the ship again.

 

“Check out these carvings,” he runs a hand over the painted deck, “the crests…I’ve never seen anything like it,” I hum, running my hand over the cage metal, “and this metal,” I hum. Hiccup and Toothless join me, and Toothless growls at the cage. Hiccup pats him, reassuring him, “come on bud, it’s just an empty cage.”

 

A bird shrieks, making all three of us flinch, before it flies off, over our heads.

 

“okay,” I hum, pointedly, “ _now_ it’s an empty cage.”

 

Hiccup rolls his eyes, and we continue our trek. Toothless tries to stop us by standing still, stubbornly, but ultimately it’s effect is reversed, and Hiccup releases a trap. The trap is a rope designed to pull whoever’s standing in the loop off the ship. As he is tugged away, I shout: “ _Hiccup_!”

 

Before he can go overboard, Toothless shoots the rope. Hiccup slams into the railing, still, and I rush over to check on him.

 

“You okay?” I ask, hand on his shoulder as I scan his body. He swallows thickly, then nods, “m’ fine,” he furrows his brows, meeting my gaze, “Nobody goes through this much trouble unless there’s something they’re hiding.” I nod in agreement, “so, what are we waiting for?” I smirk, “nothing like some good old peril to start the night!”

 

As I lead the way, I feel his eyes on my back.

 

As he leads the way below deck, he also manages to step into a foot-trap (thank thor for his prosthetic), and activate an arrow trap before we reach the captain’s  quarters’ front door. The door is decorated quite detailed with jewels and carvings, but my focus is on Hiccup as I put my hands on my hips and quip:

 

“You’re great at this trap disablement thing,” I joke, and he groans, rolling his eyes. “Cut me some slack, will you?” he says, turning his gaze to the door. I mirror the gesture.

 

“Alright,” he hums, “here’s the plan—” but before he can explain, I shoot Toothless a look, and the dragon blasts the door open. Hiccup blinks, then stares at me for a second. I grin, puffing my chest out. “I like yours better,” he deadpans, promptly leading us into the cabin.

 

As we set foot into the room, our sights are focused on the cylinder shaped object, resting on a platform on the table, the deceased Captain’s skeletal hand resting on it. It’s intricately carved, filled with details.

 

“Wow,” I breathe, “What is it?”

 

Hiccup blinks, briefly glancing at me, before he steps closer, “No idea,” he shakes his head, “Whatever it is, if it’s on this ship it can’t be good for dragons.”

 

I nod, “which means?”

 

“Which means we’re not leaving it here for Dagur.”

 

 

He carefully moves to lift it with both hands, and I hiss a warning, “Careful, we don’t know what removing it will trigger.” He meets my gaze, nods, then ever-so-delicately plucks it off the pedastol.

 

“Huh,” he scoffs, stepping away, “Well, that wasn’t too—” he begins, only to be cut off by a giant axe slicing the desk, barely missing his face, “—GIANT AXE!” he shouts. I hiss, “Spoke too soon,” then grab his arm as I head for the door, “ _Run_!”  

 

When we finally emerge above deck, slamming the door shut, I glance up, and my blood freezes in my veins. Toothless gets ready to fire, but Hiccup holds him back.

 

“ _Dagur_ ,” I hiss, and Hiccup whispers to Toothless, “Hold, bud.”

 

Dagur laughs, maniacal and disturbing as ever, and it feels like no time has passed.

 

“Hiccup!” he cheers, way too happy to be anything but Psychotic. As he monologues, I vaguely register a cell behind him, and whip out my knife—precautions, you know—and assume a fighting stance. “Did you miss me?” he asks, “Cause I missed you,” his tone turns poisonous, “every day for three years, I thought about you.” He chuckles, fixing me with a disturbing look, “Ira, look how you’ve grown! Quite the looker now, are we?”

 

Before Hiccup can bark at him, I drawl, “Ah Dagur,” I point the blade in my hand at him, “Still the same psychopath, I see,” I remark, voice casual. Dagur laughs dryly, then steps aside, revealing—

 

“Guys!” I gasp, posture immediately tensing at the sight of the riders trapped in the green cage.

 

“Sorry, guys,” Astrid apologizes, “he got the drop on us.”

 

I open my mouth to reply, but Dagur interrupts, “Uh, quiet! Can’t you see, my brother, my lady and I are having a moment?”

 

“I’m not _your_ lady,” I growl, and Hiccup supplies, “I am not your brother, and we are not having a moment.”

 

Dagur huffs, rolling his eyes, “oh, well, I was.” He smirks, studying Hiccup, “look at you,” he drawls, “all grown up! And quite the ladies’ man, I’d wager. Hmmm? Hmm?”

 

I quirk a brow at him, wondering if that’s a nudge at the braids I’d weaved into his hair, but Hiccup just rolls his eyes and asks—no, demands:

 

“Dagur, what do you want?”

 

Behind the Beserker chief, Snotlout speaks up: “Duh,” he flips a mane of disembodied blonde hair, which he has pinned under his helmet, “he wants the jewels.” Before I can ask what the Hel is going on with the hair, Tuff grunts, “he’s not getting my family’s jewels. No way! And I’ll protect the at all costs!” he then glances at Snotlout, asking, “Also, what is with the hair?”

 

Snotlout huffs, “Ha! It’s royal hair, I’ll have you know.”

 

Dagur rolls his eyes, “Haven’t gotten rid of the Greek Chorus I see,” I growl, “anyway,” he continues, “yes, I’ll take the jewels.” He glances at Ruff, “his too.”

 

One of Dagur’s men punches Ruffnut in the gut, causing her to spill the jewels in her mouth. After spitting a leftover gem into the crew member’s eye, Dagur continues:

 

“Oops, thought that was the guy,” he shrugs, “Never can tell with those two.” He fixes us again, “and I’ll also take whatever it is you’re hiding behind your back,” he says, hand held out expectantly, “come on,” he sings, “hand it over like a good boy. Brothers share, you know.”

 

I scoff, “good thing you’re not brothers, then.”

 

“Oh my lady—” he retorts, a hand on his heart, and I hiss, “—how you wound me.”

 

Before our quips can escalate, Hiccup does the unexpected—he hands over the artifact.

 

I blink, surprised, then cross my arms, “Damn, Hiccup,” I hiss, “where’s that Viking Stubborness?” Dagur laugh, inspecting the object, “smart move, Hiccup.”

 

Hiccup ignores me, scoffing, “you know you’re not going to get very far with that thing, right?” he says. Dagur rolls his eyes, bored: “Oh, boy,” he sighs, rolling his head, “here we go. Must we always do the same dance, Hiccup, you and I?” he chuckles, “Not that you're not a fabulous dancer.“

 

Though i must agree on the dancing part, I join Toothless in growling at him. Hiccup holds the dragon back, “Not yet, bud.”

 

Dagur grins, “That's right, Mr Night Fury.” He hums, “Today is not the day, but it's coming!” his demeanor shifts to a low grumble, briefly, “And soon. Now,” he brightens again, “if you'll excuse me. I've got people to see, an army to build, revenge to plot. Ooh, so much to do and so little time! Isn't this exciting, Hiccup?” he grins, “You... You must have been so bored over the last three years.”

 

Tuffnut hums, nodding, “Yeah, he's got a point about that.” He smirks, “Not enough explosions.“

 

Dagur makes a theatric exit, “Alas, my time here has come to an end. Farewell, for now, brother. Until we meet again on the field of battle.”

 

Once he’s left the ship, Hiccup and I rush to open the cage.

 

“Go follow Dagur,” I urge, “I got this.”

 

He frowns, “you sure?” he asks. I nod, and Astrid reinforces my statement: “We’ll be fine, Hiccup! Go!”

 

He takes off, and I busy myself with the lock, not registering the boulder quickly approaching the deck.


	16. Snow Wraiths and Decisions

**Hiccup**

The boulder flies over my head—literally—in a huge curve, smashing the floor of the boat my friends are on. The effects are immediate: the ship begins to sink, and I hear the desperate wails of the people I hold oh so dear.

 

 _Ira_. The Riders.

 

“Isn’t this exciting?” Dagur laughs, “what will he choose, ladies and gentlemen? Saving his friends or capturing his mortal enemy, his brother?”

 

I glare at Dagur, before returning to the Reaper to try and save my friends. Probably predictable, but I am not the bitter, grudge-holder my ring wing woman is.

 

After a few attempts of blasting the door—and Snotlout telling Fishlegs and I to geek out over dragon proof metal later—Ira suggests calling for their dragons with the calls we’d practiced three years ago.

 

After trying to open the cage with my metal foot, I begin to slip as the boots stands in the water vertically. Toothless joins in in calling for the dragons, and finally, _finally_ , they arrive.

 

Astrid speaks up first, “Hiccup, what now?” I meet Ira’s gaze, and we share a nod. “You go back to Berk,” I order, “I’m going after Dagur. Whatever that cylinder-looking thing is,” I swallow thickly, “Dagur can _not_ have it.”

 

Ira bites her lip, “sure you won’t need back up?” she asks. I can’t bite back a smile in response to her worry, and I shake my head, “we’ll be in and out before he can do anything.” Her frown fades, replaced by a smile.

 

“See you on Berk, then.”

 

Xxx

 

The other riders are mulling about in from of the smithy when I land, but the first one to greet me is Ira.

 

“You got it back!” she exclaims, wrapping me in a brief hug, setting my insides aflame. I chuckle, “were you doubting me?” she scoffs, “me?” she laughs, “never.”

 

Before I can ask what the look in her eyes means, Astrid interrupts: “So,” she hums as I walk into the shop, “what is that thing? Why did Dagur want it?” I frown, biting my lip, then shrug, “no idea. Maybe there’s something inside it?” Ira hums, plucking it from my hands and inspecting it. After a moment, she hums:

 

“Looks like it opens, or twists, or something.” She quirks a brow at me, “maybe Gobber can open it?” I shrug, taking it back, “worth a shot, isn’t it?”

 

We then proceed to address Gobber about it, and he gets to work in inspecting the object. Ira leans on the table opposite of him, head tilted in curiosity as I ask, “have you ever seen anything like the Dragon Eye before?”

 

Tuff huffs, “Dragon Eye?” he echoes, “how do you know it’s called a Dragon Eye?”

 

Ira and I share a look, then I deadpan: “Because I named it.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Snotlout says, “aren’t we supposed to vote on stuff like that?”

 

Ira rolls her eyes, “Fine,” she grunts, standing up, “all in favor, say Dragon Eye.”

 

Everyone but Snotlout echoes her words, and we both quirk a brow at him, each.

 

“Just wanted to make sure we voted,” he shrugs, and Astrid addresses Gobber: “Can you open it, Gobber?” she asks.

 

He strains, trying to open it, but chuckles, “open it? I once opened a 500—” he grunts, “—year old giant clam at the bottom of the ocean with my bare hook,” he boasts, rolling his eyes, “can I open it? Ha! I think it’s going to be—”

 

He breaks off when a stun dart shoots out of the contraption, hitting Tuff in the chest. Tuff huffs, “What is that? Looks like a…” he breaks off, passing out. Ruff laughs.

 

“Well,” Gobber hums, “that was…something, maybe.” As he continues to struggle against the cylinder, Ira bites her lip, reaching for it, “Gobber, maybe you shouldn’t—”

 

“Trust me, lass,” he shrugs, “it’s all right.”

 

Gas begins to spray into the room, and we back out of the shop as Tuff wakes. “I’m okay,” he assures, “I got hit with something but now—” he sniffs the air, deadpanning, “—no, scratch that.”

 

He collapses, beginning to writhe on the floor.

 

“Yeah,” I hum, “I’m thinking we should probably go get Gothi and Noah.”

 

Xxx

 

When Gothi heals Tuff, Noah notices the keyhole on the Dragon Eye, and points out Gothi’s scar. After some bribing, she tells us about the Snow Wraith, and after some more begging, she agrees to help us get it’s tooth—under the condition that Noah comes along.

 

We agree, albeit reluctant, and head out.

 

Xxx

 

As we draw nearer to the island, Ira is fascinated by it’s size.

 

“Wow! Look at the size of that island!” she gasps, beaming from ear to ear. Fishlegs perks up too, “Oh! The Book of Dragons mentions the Snow Wraith but doesn’t have any information on it,” Ira giggles, “guess we’ll get to make the addition, then!” He grins, and squeaks, “can you believe this? A brand new dragon. It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten what this feeling is.”

 

Fishlegs blinks, embarrassed at Snotlout’s unconvinced glare. “Sorry,” he shrugs, “excited about the new dragon.”

 

Astrid huffs, “You mean the dragon that single-handedly wiped out Gothi’s search party?”

 

“That would be correct,” he hums, “so worth the long flight.”

 

“Well,” Noah says, “let’s land, then. Gothi’s been asleep on my back for the past hour and I think my back has just frozen in place.”

 

Ira snorts, “All right,” she laughs, “you heard the man!” before landing on the island.

 

As soon as we enter the island’s climate, Gothi wakes. When we set foot on solid ground, she looks around, a shudder runs down her spine. She shrugs.

 

“Great,” Snotlout groans, “just great! She’s got nothin’. We came here for what? Nothing!” Eira rolls her eyes. Just then, the wind picks up, howling as it messes already tousled hair. “Can we please do something?” Snotlout groans, “my mouth is starting to freeze shut.”

 

Astrid quips, “don’t get our hopes up.” Noah snorts, and I hum, meeting Eira’s nod, “Well,” I gesture with my head, “then we should work fast to find this Snow Wraith, because we’re not leaving without it.”

 

“We should split up,” Eira points out, “Cover more ground. Dragon call if you find anything?”

 

I nod in my approval, “sounds good. We meet back here in an hour.”

 

Xxx

 

An hour later, we return with nothing but light frostbite. As we banter, a storm brews—which Astrid points out.

 

“Hiccup, maybe we should give up. That looks like a huge storm.”

 

“No,” Eira and I both reply, and I continue, “we should dig in here and wait for the Snow Wraith to show itself.” Noah nods, adding: “Yeah. It likes to wait to attack until you can’t see it.”

 

“Great,” Fishlegs deadpans, “just great.”

 

As the storm builds, tensions rise. We just set up camp, when a shadow rips through the tents.

 

“Hold your ground,” I shout, “and fire back!”

 

“Fire back at what?” Eira asks, “We can’t see it, Hiccup!”

 

I duck, deadpanning, “Actually you know what?” she looks at me, brows quirked, “Take cover!”

 

As I move to do so, Snotlout is blasted into a nearby pile of snow, and Toothless and I dive into a closer one. Glaring at the dragon, I tell Toothless: “Toothless, warning shot!”

 

The blast hits the Wraith, and he flies to where the others are. They continue to fire, but when the dragon takes off again, they start hitting the pile of snow I’m buried in. “Cease fire!” I demand, and hear it echoed by Eira before it finally stops.

 

Toothless and I take matters into our own hands, and with the help of his roar-location skill, he gains a clear shot, and chases the wraith off.

 

As silence—aside from the howling wind—takes the clearing, I hear Eira ask:

 

“Everyone okay? Everyone here?”

 

Ruff grunts, “what do you mean by ‘here’?”

 

Snotlout growls, “I have a question, Hiccup,” he gets in my face, “What exactly is your plan to get a Snow Wraith tooth?” he scoffs, “take it from one of our dead bodies?!” Tuff shrugs, “if all goes well, it’ll be Ruff’s dead body. And the Wraith tooth.”

 

Eira groans, crossing her arms, “No one is dying,” she insists, “stop being dramatic.” Snotlout whines: “But I’m so good at it!”

 

“Guys!” Noah snaps, “Gothi wants to tell us something.” He pauses, waiting until she’s finished writing, and his face grows pale. He fixes us with a blank stare, lip quivering as he translates:

 

“She says we should’ve left when we had the chance.”

 

A distance roar makes Eira stick her nose to the sky, similarly to how Toothless would.

 

 

 

A few moments later, we huddle together, protected against the wind by our dragons as we discuss what to do.

 

“Astrid,” Eira perks up, “you okay?” Astrid hums, “Yep, barely.” Fishlegs frowns, addressing me, “Hiccup, you know I want a shot at this as badly as you, but maybe we should get out of here,” I spare a glance to Eira, who shrugs, “we’re just sitting ducks in the storm.”

 

My eyes widen as an idea strikes me.

 

“Wait. What did you say?” I ask.

 

“He said we’re sitting ducks,” Snotlout snaps, “and for once, I agree with him.”

 

“Sitting ducks,” Eira echoes as her eyes widen in consideration, and I exclaim, gleefully, “Yes, yes! That’s exactly what we need to be!”

 

“Excuse me?” Astrid asks.

 

“What if we could make the Wraith think it sees us,” I suggest, “when we’re not here?”

 

“You can make yourself invisible?” Tuff asks, “why does he get all the cool stuff? I just have to settle with _you_ as a sister,” he grumbles to Ruff.

 

“No, you muttonhead,” Eira hisses, but I hum, “Tuff’s not that far off.” She furrows her brows, “What?”

 

“Look,” I say, placing a hand on her shoulder, “the Snow Wraith didn’t have any trouble seeing us until Snotlout got buried in the snow,” I look from Eira to Snotlout, then Gothi, “and Gothi said it couldn’t find her when she fell into a snow bank,” I returned my gaze to Eira, “I think that’s because it sees heat—”

 

“—in the same way Toothless can see with his roaring,” she concludes. I nod, “Exactly.” My hand drops off her shoulder—reluctantly—and I address the group: “We’ll use this to our advantage to confuse it, then, when it’s distracted, we’ll net it and get that tooth.”

 

“And you’re sure it’ll work?” Astrid asks.

 

“Uhh,” I hum, dumbly. Eira shakes her head, rolling her eyes, “Of course not,” she smiles, “it’s Hiccup.”

 

“I hate you,” Snotlout tells me, “You know that?”

 

“Yes,” I confirm, “I am aware of that.” I turn to the gang, “All right, gang, let’s get to work.”

 

We quickly create makeshift dummies, placing them a few feet away from an ice cave, in which we hide as we set flame to the dummies.

 

“Now, if I'm right,” I muse, “when we light these on fire, the Snow Wraith will think they're us and attack.” Eira hums, adding as she nods, “Then we'll have the drop on it.“ I confirm, “Exactly.”

 

Snotlout interrupts, “Wait, wait, wait!” he wails, “Look at how realistically gorgeous my statue is,” he shakes his head, “I can't in good conscience send that into flames.” Snotlout's statue's head is blown off by the wind, and he winces. Astrid rolls her eyes, “I’ll work through the pain and do it for you.”

 

Snotlout blinks, touched, “wow, you’d do that for me, Astrid?”

 

She rolls her eyes, and I give Toothless the signal to light the dummies. After a few seconds of peace, the Snow Wraith finally appears, making a grab for the dummies. When it takes out Snotlout’s, he gives Hookfang the signal to fire up, leading to the ceiling beginning to crack.

 

Toothless and Eira are the only ones to notice.

 

“Hiccup--!” she gasps, moving to push me to the side, but Toothless is faster, resulting in all three of us tumbling into the storm.

 

I end up accidentally pinning her to the ground, and feel my face increase in heat rapidly. “Uh,” I stutter, dumbly, before pushing myself off her, and offering my hand to her as I ask, “you okay?” Eira hums, cradling her head in her palm, “Yeah. M’ fine.”

 

We glance around, and I assess, “If it can see our body heat, then we are way too easy a target out here.” She hums, nodding, then points to the fire, burning a few feet away, “We can hide between the dummies—the heat with mix, making us harder to spot.” I nod, promptly making my way over, with her and Toothless hot on my heels.

 

Toothless does his thing, using his roar to locate the Wraith, but we find nothing, until Eira whips around, alarmed, and I mirror her—

 

“Shi--!” she cusses, but is cut off by me as Gothi passes us, “Gothi, no!” but before we can grab ahold of her, she begins whacking the Wraith with her staff.

 

“Toothless,” I shout, “Plasma blast! But, ah, be careful not to hit the crazy lady with a stick!”

 

With the dragons’ joined firepower, we chase it away, much to my dismay.

 

“No! We can't lose him!” I protest as he disappears into the snow. “Actually,” Tuff corrects, “he lost us.” Eira places her hand on my arm, forcing me to look at her, “Hiccup, we need to get out of here,” her eyes briefly avert, “it’s too risky,” her eyes return to meet mine, and I have a hard time protesting, “Not yet,” I say, despite this, “this isn’t over—” Gothi taps my shoulder with her staff, “not now, Gothi,” I brush her off, “Gang, we came here for a Snow Wraith tooth—” the old lady repeats the gesture, “just a minute, Gothi—and we are not leaving—”

 

Suddenly, she shoves her staff into my face, and I spot a Snow Wraith tooth, nestled into the wood.

 

“Without…a tooth.”

 

Eira makes a popping sound with her lips, “Well,” she shrugs, “guess that takes care of _that_.”

 

Xxx

Back on Berk, we relieve Gobber of his duties—much to the relief of the town—and he cleans the tooth up, allowing us to use it as a key. When I turn it however, nothing happens.

 

“We almost died,” Snotlout points out, “For THAT?”

 

“No,” Eira frowns, “there’s gotta be more to it than that!” I hum in agreement, but don’t find anything to back us up until later that night, as we’re sitting in my room, inspecting it further.

 

With a yawn, I give up for the day.

 

“All right,” I sigh, “that’s it. I’m calling it a night,” I declare, setting it on my desk. Eira huffs, crossing her arms, “that easily?” I pout, “hey, the dragon eye’s not going anywhere,” I tell her, patting her shoulder, “it’ll still be there tomorrow.”

 

She sighs, reluctant, before crawling into her usual cove of blankets and pillows with a purr. She really is too cute.

 

As I move to remove my metal limb, Toothless warms his stone plate, and the light filters through the lens of the Eye, catching my attention.

 

“Eira—” I say, standing again. She perks up with a intrigued ‘Brrt?’, then I hear her stand, coming to stand beside me as I pick up the object. “What the…?” she asks as I set it down on a stool and address my dragon, “Toothless, come here.” He hums, complying.

 

“Do that again,” I say, “give me a low flame.”

 

Hiccup does as he’s told, and the light filters through the lens, and illuminates the wall in patters and unintelligible writing.

 

“Whoah…” Eira sighs.

 

“Whoa,” I gasp, then meet her eye. Her eyes are glowing, alight with mischief and curiosity, “this,” I say, pointedly, “changes everything.”

 

“Well,” Eira corrects, “it will definitely. In the near future.”


	17. Imperfect Harmony

**Eira**

After bringing the other riders up to date, we decide to call for a council meeting first thing in the morning. Hiccup, surprisingly, asks me to help him defend the proposal of going out there and exploring what the Dragon Eye shows us.

 

As we approach the great hall, I falter. All morning I’ve been wondering if I should really go with him, and as my nerves seem to win me over, I grab his hand.

 

“What’s wrong?” Hiccup asks, and I sigh. I meet him with a gaze, and briefly I pause, getting lost in forest-green eyes, before speaking my mind:

 

“I’m…I’m not sure I should come with you.”

 

He blinks, clearly shocked. “What?” he asks, voice almost a whimper, “why not? Of course you should.”

 

I roll my eyes, “Hiccup, I’m not the child of a chief,” he pouts, “nor am I a chief, general, or anyone of importance.” I grunt, “Hel, I’m technically not even Berkian!”

 

Hiccup furrows his brows, eyes growing stormy.

 

“First of all,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder, “you _are_ important. To me,” I roll my eyes, opening my mouth to reply, but he beats me to it, “secondly, you’re every bit a Berkian as I am, Eira,” my breath hitches, eyes widening, “and you should be in there, by my side, 100%”

 

His hands find my wrists, and he holds them, delicate, but decisive.

 

“You _get_ me, and understand why I— _we_ —need to do this,” his gaze rises, from wrists to my eyes, “every since we met, you’ve been with me. Supporting me. Helping me.” he smiles, “you’ve been a constant, and had a vital role in making me the person I am today,” I find myself smiling as he goes on, “and I _want, need_ you by my side, especially when defending my cause.”

 

I smile, and lower my head with a huffed laugh, “Alright,” I say, “in that case,” I draw close, close enough so he can feel my breath on his lips, “who am I to deny my _leader_?”

 

I walk past him as I flick my hair behind me, and after a pause in which I hear him suck in a breath, he follows.

 

Xxx

 

“This sure beats normal council business,” Gobber comments, and I have no doubt about it. “It's alright lads,” Stoick reassures the council, “you can speak your mind. We're the council after all, that's why we're here. “

 

Spitelout is first to speak up, and after three years, I still can’t stand him.

 

“We've been at peace for three years,” he reminds us, “best years on Berk I can remember—” my mind scoffs, though I don’t let it show, “I think you know as well as I do, when you go looking for trouble, you usually find it.”

 

Sven nods his agreement, “I'm with Spitelout,” he says, “if that Dragon Eye leads to unknown places and new wild dragons, then no good will come from any of that.”

 

I disagree, and so does Hiccup, as I can tell from the way he glances at me. He, however, is the one who voices his disagreement:

 

“I completely disagree,” he says, stepping up, “Sven. Look around you,” he glances at me, “How-how can you say that no good can come from discovering new species of dragons,” he furrows his brows, “if they’re out there, we have to find them.”

 

“Before someone else, with more grim intentions, does,” I add.

 

Spitelout scoffs, “If there is anything you and the other riders should be doing,” he says, glaring at me, “is hunting down Dagur and putting him back in jail, where he belongs.”

 

“Another reason to go,” Hiccup butts in, “Dagur was heading beyond our borders. He thinks we won't go past them. But that's where we'll find him.“

 

„Hiccup is right,“ I say, finally speaking up properly, “if we want to find Dagur, we need to cross that boundary.” I address Stoick more than the other council members, “Dagur knows that there’s a world out there, and he’s undoubtedly already out there, trying to conquer it all.”

 

Spitelout growls at me, then turns to Stoick, “Stoick, anytime you like to chime in, we can put this thing to rest.”

 

The air immediately becomes thick with Hiccup and I’s anxiety.

 

“You're right Spitelout,” Stoick hums, “let's put this to rest.”

 

Hearing Stoick say that causes Hiccup to deflate, and sigh, somewhat urgently: “dad…”

 

“Let me speak, son,” Stoick says, “this is as important for you to hear as it is for them.”

 

Stoick turns to the council as Hiccup tries to hide in his own shadow, “Spitelout, you're absolutely right,” the chief confirms, “These have been some of our best years. Nothing is more important than peace, peace among us, peace with our neighbors.”

 

Hiccup sighs, and I resist the urge to pat his back.

 

“And peace with our dragons,” he continues, “Having said that, Let me ask you this Spitelout:” I immediately perk up, sensing the shift in Stoick’s tone, “when you and I first had Alvin in our sights and everyone was trying to tell us to leave well enough alone, what did we do?”

 

Gobber cackles, “Crush them, that's what you did!”

 

“Thank you, Gobber.“

 

„My pleasure, chief.“

 

„When Valka—” I freeze, for this isn’t a subject anyone had ever told me about, “--was taken, and I went in search for her, could anyone have stopped me?”

 

Gobber hums, “Well, technically you're the chief, so, no.”

 

Stoick sighs, “yes, Gobber, fair point, but you know where I'm going.”

 

He leans on the table, fixating the gathered Vikings with a decided gaze, “Think of the most important thing in the world to each of you. Ask yourselves honestly, how far would you be willing to go to get it, what would you risk?” Stoick smiles, eyes crinkling, “The boy's life has been dragons. His life _is_ dragons. And will _continue_ to be. We can't stop him from going if we wanted to. So we might as well support him.”

 

He turns to Hiccup, placing hands on either shoulder.

 

“Go lad,” he hums, “find whatever it is out there that's pulling on you.” He straightens, “when you find it, Berk will be right here waiting for you,” he glances at me, and places a hand on my shoulder, “For Both of you.”

 

We meet each other’s eager gaze, then meet Stoick’s soft smile, and nod.

 

Xxx

 

As we hover over the open seas outside Berk, Hiccup addresses me.

 

“You ready for this?” he asks.

 

I grin, “I was born ready, Hiccup,” I tell him, but before he can reply, the other riders arrive to the sound of Snotlout’s complaining, “Blah, Blah, Blah. Why do you have to make a production out of everything?” he asks, making me chuckle, “Let's just go already.“

 

“Okay,” Hiccup buzzes, “but if anyone has any reservations—”

 

Before he can finish, the others zip past, and Snotlout yells: “Into the great beyond!”

 

 

 

 

The trip isn’t a short one. After about two days of almost nonstop travel, we emerge on the other side of the fogbank. When we do, it doesn’t take long for us to find a place to camp at. As we prepare to descend, however, a strange sound make it’s way over us, causing the dragons to perk up.

 

“Whoah,” Fishlegs gasps, “what is it girl? Don’t you wanna rest?”

 

I frown, “don’t you hear that?” Snotlout pouts, “What is that noise?” Fishlegs huffs, “I have no idea, but the dragons are definitely attracted to it.”

 

Hiccup shrugs, “I guess that’s where we’re going, then,” before leading the descent. On the island, we spend a few minutes just basking in lakes and exploring, before dividing up to get camp set up.

 

Astrid and the twins are on fruit and plant-food duty, Snotlout and Fishlegs firewood, Hiccup on scouting, and me on fish-duty. As we break off into separate directions, I eye the ocean.

 

“It’s been way too long since the last time I’ve had a good swim,” I tell Saphhire, before I approach the ocean, shedding layers of clothing as I go.

 

Xxx

**Hiccup**

When I return to the beach where we plan to set up camp, Eira is in the water, up to her knees. She’s shed most of her clothes, remaining only in her underwear—brown shorts and a red cloth around her chest. That, however, isn’t what I’m fixated on.

 

I’m fixated on the various scars that litter her body, and specifically a burn mark on her thigh—pale against the dark skin, and obviously having been treated poorly. If what Noah told me about burns is right, that if not treated at all, will more likely than not result in deathly disease. Seeing the scar, I could only assume that the person who treated her, only did so well enough as to keep her alive.

 

“Hiccup,” she spoke, suddenly waking me from my fix-point, “I got like 10 fish,” she announces, gesturing to the silver-gold scales she usually wears, on top of which she’d piled the fish.

 

“Oh,” I say, unintelligently, and she smiles, “should I get more?” I blink, picking up our dinner, “No,” I shake my head, forcing a smile, “this should be enough. After all, the twins are getting some fruit, too.” She hums, making her way back to the beach, washing her knife off in the salt water.

 

She balances on a boulder as she dries and dresses again. Watching her pull cloth over exposed skin, I bike my lip, contemplating how to ask her about the burn.

 

“So,” she hums, shaking the sand off her white shirt, “I’m guessing you’re wondering about the burn.”

 

My breath hitches, and I briefly wonder how she knew, but I lick my lips, nodding mutedly.

 

“Yeah. That obvious?”

 

She shrugs, “probably not, but, I like to think I can read you pretty well, after three years.” She smiles, batting her lashes.

 

I huff, “Well,” I hand her her arm braces as she pulls her shirts on, “you don’t have to tell me.”

 

She hums, taking the braces, “oh, I know,” she smiles, somewhat sadly, “but we both know I’ll tell you sooner or later. And, let’s be real, we _both_ prefer sooner over later.”

 

I scoff a laugh as we stoke the fire Snotlout had set in place earlier. We settle on the sand, and she’s so close, she’s practically sitting on my lap.

 

Before I can react to that predicament, she begins:

 

“My first night in the arena,” she explains, “Bijor had me marked with that emblem— _their_ emblem.” I frown, and with a sinking feeling, I realize what that mark is, having seen it before, on the hunter ship.

 

“They marked you with a Dragon Hunter emblem.”

 

She nods, solemnly. I tilt my head, waiting for her to elaborate.

 

She takes a deep breath, “they treated it, but barely.  I still got sick from the burn, but, I got better—”

 

“Obviously.”

 

She glares at me, and I turn away.

 

“I kind of wished I hadn’t,” she confesses, and I whip back around, “well. at the time. But, then I saw the way they treated their dragons and I..I actually tried to survive, if only for the chance to free them.”

 

She looks at me, directly in the eye, and with the most earnest voice, she speaks:

 

“You saved my life.”

My breath hitches, and, for a moment, I forget how to breathe.

 

“That’s…heavy.”

 

She snorts, then hums, “Yeah,” she admits, “it is. Sorry.”

 

“No,” I say, hand reaching for hers, “don’t—don’t be. I’m…” I smile, “I’m glad you trust me enough to share that.”

 

She smiles, “well, it makes sense. I guess. I mean. You _are_ my hero,” she tilts her head, “right?”

 

I feel my jaw drop, and eyes widen, but just then, Fishlegs calls out to us:

 

“Eira! Hiccup! Where are you? I found more firewood!”

 

She hums, jumping up as she calls back: “Over here!”

 

As she goes to meet him, my eyes stay fixed to her backside, and I furrow my brows.

 

 _Whoever hurt her_ , I promise myself, _will pay dearly_.

Xxx

 

Eira and I end up falling asleep where we’d been talking to Astrid the night before, unwillingly having begun cuddling during the night. But, I do wake up, it’s to complete silence.

 

“Eira,” I whisper, shaking her awake. She stirs, and groggily asks, “mhhm?” I huff, “Eira, do you hear that?” she furrows her brows, forcing her eyes open and she sits, “What?” she asks, “I don’t hear anything.”

 

“Exactly,” I frown, “the sound is gone.”

 

“And the dragons are too!” Fishlegs exclaims, worried sick. Suddenly, Eira is on her feet, “we need to find them,” she demands, “we have no idea what’s on this island.” I nod, standing as well, “she’s right gang,” I say, hand on her back, “let’s get moving.”

 

 

 

After about half and hour of searching, Eira groans as the twins talk about Berf/Belch, and Snotlout disses them with the words ‘two bodies, half a brain’.

 

“They aren’t here, Hiccup.” I don’t miss the desperation in her voice, and turn to face her, “well, they have to be somewhere.” She scoffs, “Yeah, somewhere not here.”

 

 

 “oh, my Meatlug,” Fishlegs whines, “she wouldn’t do this. She would never leave me. She would never do this on her own.“ Before Eira can retort with blissful pessimism, a noise directs our attention to the bushes. We turn to face the greenery, and—

 

“Toothless!” Eira gasps as the night fury barks a roar, and pins me to the ground as he licks my face. I laugh, petting him, “Ha ha, There you are bud. Where did you go?“

 

Suddenly, he gets up, beginning to circle us as he purrs and grumbles.

 

“Okay,” Snotlout says, “I think your dragon ate something weird in the forest because he's out of his mind.”

 

“No,” Fishlegs hums, “no no no no, I think he's trying to tell us something.”

 

“What is it, bud,” I ask, “is it the other dragons?”

 

Toothless makes a noise at the back of his throat, then grabs my metal leg and begins to run through the forest.

 

“How far do you think he’s gonna get before he realizes?” Eira asks as she helps me to my foot, arm around my back as I lace mine over her shoulders as I shrug, “Hard to say, he seems pretty committed.”

 

After a minute or so, Toothless returns, dropping the leg at Eira’s feet. She laughs, handing it to me, and I pat Toothless affectionately.

 

“that's okay, bud,” I smile, “I like the enthusiasm.” I refasten my foot, then turn to the riders, “You guys stay here in case they come back,” I tell them, “Toothless and I are gonna look for them from above.”

 

In the short time frame in which we take to the sky, the others get surprised by a Thunderdrum. After a brief fight for control with Toothless, we return to the clearing and rescue them—but not before the dragon partially deafens them.

 

When we land, Snotlout immediately begins to shout, “Anything else you wanna draw towards us?!” I wince at the volume, “Changewings? Ooh, Screaming Death maybe? Bet they have one of those around here!”

 

All eyes are on me, disapproving and annoyed as I whimper, yelling back, “Snotlout, you’re yelling very loudly.” He scoffs, “Oh really!? I can barely hear myself, because that’s what happens! When you get attacked! By a Thunderdrum!”

 

I sigh, “okay, we need our dragons. I’m going back out there.”

 

“Hiccup,” Eira yells, drawing my attention to a group of very expectant Vikings, “We can’t hear you!” she reminds me with a yell. I sigh, before shouting back: “I said I’m going back out there!”

 

The response is immediate, and angry:

 

“No you’re not,” Snotlout shouts, “I will take your other leg!”

 

“We’re dragonless and defenseless,” Fishlegs yells.

 

“And we can only communicate by yelling!” Ruff shouts, to which Tuff shrugs, adding at a high volume: “Which although enjoyable is not very stealthy. Are you hearing any of this?”

 

Finally relenting, I yell at them that I give in, and we proceed our search. The effects of the Thunderdrum attack wear off as we trek through foggy forests.

 

“Uhhh…Hiccup?” Fishlegs whimpers, and I mumble, “I know, Fishlegs—no longer amazing.” Eira scoffs, “you figured that out quickly, Hiccup,” she smiles, way too brightly, “I’m impressed!” I glare at her, warning, “Eira…” I grumble, “Not helping,” and she drops the act with a shrug, “just saying.”

 

We step into a clearing, and let out a collective gasp. Eira shrinks back, palm covering her mouth, eyes reflecting horror, and disgust.

 

“Are those what I think they are?” Fishlegs asks.

 

“Weirdly shaped white rocks?” Tuff guesses.

 

“Dragon bones,” Eira gasps, slowly creeping forward, running her fingers over jagged remains.

 

Tuff claps his hands, “Ah, yes a boneyard,” he grins, “I like it.”

 

Ruff and I glare at him, and he whimpers, correcting: “I don’t like it.”

 

Toothless approaches the bonepile, growling. Eira places a soothing hand on his head, “I know,” she whispers, “I know.”

 

Astrid notices something, bending down to pluck it off the ground. Between her fingers she holds an amber-colored shard.

 

“What is this stuff?” she asks. I shrug, “no idea.” Eira perks up, walking over to examine it. Astrid tosses it to her, and she catches it, promptly holding it into the light. It catches the light, reflecting in patterns on Eira’s face.

 

“Weird,” she muses, “it filters light like glass.”

 

I open my mouth to reply, but I’m interrupted by a deafening roar.

 

“Okay,” Snotlout whimpers as we all flinch, “what. Was. That?”

 

Eira huffs, “we’re going to find out,” before leading us to where the sound came from.

 

 

 

 

We emerge in a valley between two cliffs, filled to bursting with dragons, trapped in the amber substance Astrid found moments ago. Our jaws drop, and I can watch the terror melt into Eira’s features.

 

“You guys do know what is going on here,” Tuff muses, “Don’t you?” Fishlegs sighs, “Yeah,” he walks forward, carefully, “something is trapping the dragons in this amber rock substance and immobilizing them.” Tuff blinks, then huffs, “Oh, I had a completely different idea which involved oily fish, and uh, bad mutton.”

 

Eira’s eyes widen as she pets a nearby Gronkcle, “then it’s breaking them out and…” she falters, and Fishlegs concludes: “eating them.”

 

“Oh come on,” Ruff drawls, “who would be doing that?”

 

Just then, a deafening screech echoes off the walls of the cove, and a giant dragon moves into sight, hovering over us, casting a huge shadow over us. Eira’s jumps away from the dragon, pulling out her signature knife, and growling.

 

“How about that guy?” Eira offers, deadpan, “he seems suspect.”

 

We duck for cover behind a boulder and a cliff’s wall, and the butterfly-winged dragons picks up the nearest Nadder, before flying off as it releases that _sound_ again.

 

**Eira**

After the dragon disappears, we emerge, and Hiccup explains, after having to hold Toothless back, “It’s the sound!”

 

“What?” I ask.

 

“The sound,” he repeats, stepping into the clearing, “that’s what’s drawing the dragons in.”

 

“Songwing!” Fishlegs exclaims. Hiccup and I turn to stare at him, brow furrowed, “ _What_?” we ask, in time with one other. “That’s what we should name it,” Fishlegs explains, and Hiccup groans, “Now? Really? You want to name it now?”

 

Fishlegs frowns, shrugging, “We need to call it something.”

 

Tuff hums, “Yeah,” he nods, “I’m thinking Deathsong might be more appropriate.” I quirk my brow at him, and he gestures vaguely, “you know, cause you hear the song—” he imitates slicing his throat, “and you’re dead.”

 

Hiccup and Fishlegs share a glance, and Hiccup shrugs, “he makes a pretty good point,” he admits. Tuff puffs out his chest, “Yeah, I do.” He flaters, “Wait, what was it again?”

 

 

“Des it matter what we call it!?” I ask, going on to say: “If it did this _these_ dragons, it probably did it to ours, too.” Fishlegs nods, taking another step into the valley, “We have to find them,” Hiccup nods, “Fast.”

 

 

We fan out, starting to call our dragons. in moments like these, I’m glad Saphhire is so one-of-a-kind, making her roar easy to discern, and form easier to spot. One by one, we spot our dragons, reuniting with them. Sadly, the joy doesn’t last, as the Deathsong returns with a screech.

 

Toothless jumps onto a boulder, and attacks the Deathsong. The enemy, however, is an excellent shot, and manages to trap Toothless.

 

“Toothless!” Hiccup shouts, and I command: “Get to your dragons, _now_!”

 

We begin to try to free them, chopping at the amber substance, and one by one, the Deathsong traps us in cocoons of our own.

 

Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, The Twins.

 

“Argh!” Astrid grunts, “Crap, this stuff is nasty!”

 

“Whuu-!” Fishlegs gasps, “I can’t move! I’m totally stuck!”

 

Snotlout huffs, “me too,” he grunts, “I can’t believe that thing got me. I’m usually so limber.”

 

Tuff grumbles, “Yeah? Well at least you got your own cocoon.” Ruff scoffs, “oh yeah, like this is a picnic for me!” their cocoon tips, and they fall over. Tuff mumbles: “I’m fine.”

 

My focus is redirected to Hiccup, as the Deathsong sets his sights on him. I sprint across the valley, shouting, “Hiccup!” and—barely—manage to jump between liquid amber and Viking Prince.

 

I fall to the ground with a grunt, and Hiccup gasps, “Eira--!” before being forced to dodge, and quickly leave the scene. He lingers by the crack in the cliffs, and I glare at him, hissing:

 

“GO!”

 

With a bite of his lip and a reluctant whimper, he does so. For a while, we wait in anticipation as the dragon leaves as well.

 

Snotlout begins to struggle after some time, grunting, “Ugh! Where’s Hiccup!?” he glares, “I knew he’s leave us,” he groans, “I have to pee.”

 

“He didn’t leave us,” I snap, “He’ll be back.”

 

Astrid grunts, squirming, “grr,” she growls, “if only I could reach my knife.”

 

“It wouldn’t matter, Astrid,” Fishlegs tells her, “whatever this is, it’s really strong. I don’t think we can cut through it.”

 

“If we can’t cut it,” Snotlout huffs, “how do we get out of it?” I frown, considering our options. I shrug—as best I can, anyway—“call a Shockjaw?”

 

Tuff groans, face full of Ruff’s hair and they lay sideways, Tuff below Ruff, “You can’t tell me my last breath is gonna be inhaling her stinky fish hair,” he groans, and she huffs, “Oh yeah, that’s real original.” She grits her teeth, “You know what? I hope it eats you first. Then I’ll have something cool to watch before I die.” Tuff huffs, “You stay on your side of the cocoon, Missy.”

 

Just then, their Cocoon is knocked several feet across the grass, and Tuff gasps: “Whoa! What’s going on?” he grins, “Do it again!”

 

“okay,” Hiccup’s voice drawls, causing me to whip my head up, almost giving me whiplash, “so, that’s a negative on plan A—ramming the cocoon open.”

 

When I catch sight of Hiccup, he’s perched on a Thunderdrum, and I smirk to Snotlout:

 

“Told you he’d be back.”

 

“Shut up, Eira,” he snaps.

 

“Please,” Astrid begs, “tell me you have a plan B.”

 

Fishlegs pouts, “If it involves cutting, ramming or ripping, you might as well forget it,” he declares, “once it cools down, this stuff’s as hard as any rock I’ve ever seen.”

 

I blink, and Hiccup seems to have the same thought, as he echoes: “Cools down?”

 

“And hardens,” Fishlegs adds. Hiccup hums, about to run off again, “nobody move.”

 

Tuff drawls, “Oh yeah, that’s funny,” he scoffs, “A real comedian!”

 

 

Hiccup digs around in Snotlout’s bag briefly, beaming when he finally finds what he’s looking for—

 

“Monstrous Nightmare gel?” I ask. He hums, beginning to spread it over the cocoons, “do you trust me?” he asks, and I huff, “you know I do.”

 

“Says the man about to set me on fire,” Snotlout growls. Hiccup hums, “you said it only stings a little.” Snotlout whimpers, “I was lying! You know I’m a liar!” he spreads the gel over my, Astrid and Ruffnut’s stomachs, careful to avoid our boobs as he reassures Snotlout, and I smile at the gesture, “It’ll be okay, Snotlout, I promise.”

 

Just then, the Deathsong returns, and Hiccup hides, albeit briefly. It picks up another dragon, and flies off.

 

“Ahh!!” Fishlegs gasps, distressed, “Hurry up, Hiccup! He just took the appetizer,” he whimpers, “I think I’m the main course!” in his panic, he manages to disconnect his cocoon’s from Meatlug’s, “Oh, oh, Thor!”

 

Astrid sighs, “Relax, Fishlegs,” she says, “it could take hours for him to eat that dragon.”

 

Then, the Deathsong returns, and I deadpan, “Or…minutes.”

 

Fishlegs whimpers, “Help!” and when the Deathsong lands over him, he shifts so that he is no longer staring at the dragon’s chin, “uh, hi, sir.”

 

As the Deathsong opens it’s mouth, Hiccup and the Thunderdrum swoop in, distracting it, “Hey!” he shouts, “Remember us?!”

 

Hiccup climbs the sky, and the Deathsong follows. After some short moments, they dive, and Hiccup jumps off the Thunderdrum, and lands on his shield, on a boulder, and the sparks created by the impact light the gel, and—

 

RACK!

 

BOOM!

 

The amber cracks, breaking, and we’re freed.

 

“HAHA!” I laugh, cheering as Saphhire runs and jabs her head into my gut, “it worked! You’re a genius, Hiccup!” he smiles as he walks up to Toothless, and before he can mount, I hug him, then mount my own dragon. Facing off with the Deathsong, I notice a nearby adolescent Thunderdrum, pointing it out to Hiccup.

 

“No wonder he stuck around,” he muses, then addresses Snotlout, “Snotlout, take care of the Thunderdrum, I’ll relocate the Deathsong!” before I can even offer to assist, he flies off, drawinfg the Deathsong away.

 

Xxx

 

After trapping the Deathsong in a cave, and saying goodbye to the Thunderdrums, we take to the sky again, making our way further into the unknown.

 

“Hey, gang,” Hiccup sighs, drawing my attention, “I just wanted to say I'm sorry for getting you all into this.” He glances up, “If you want to turn back...“

 

Astrid scoffs, “Are you kidding?” Ruff cackles, “No way!” and Snotlout hums, “this is the most fun we’ve had in years!” I nod, adding: “And besides, you had no way of knowing what we’d find out here,” he meets my gaze, and I give him a pointed look, “it wasn’t your fault.”

 

He hums, not seeming to quite hear me.

 

“There is something we need, though,” Astrid says, and he perks up, smirking: “I’m all ears.” Astrid hums, “An island,” she says, and my brows hike to my hairline, “our own island.”

 

“Astrid’s right,” Fishlegs supplies, “We’re way too far out to travel back and forth to Berk.”

 

“What we need,” I point out, “is a base of operations.”

 

Fishlegs nods, “Precisely.” He huffs, “But this time, we don't let the dragons pick it.” Meatlug grumbles, and Fishlegs pets her cheek, “Sorry, girl, it had to be said.“

 

“All right,” Hiccup buzzes, “Snotlout, you're the man of the hour for bringing the Monstrous Nightmare gel. You choose.“

 

Snotlout blinks, surprised, making me chuckle.

 

“Seriously?” he asks. Hiccup nods, “Yeah, seriously.“

 

Snotlout smirks, „All right! What do you say, Fangster?” Hookfang roars, and I find myself grinning wider as Snotlout laughs, “Ha! Couldn't agree more.“

 


	18. When Darkness Falls

**Eira**

About 3 days are spent looking for a suitable island. We land to take a look at several islands, some overrun with wild, aggressive boars, others filled with blue oleander, that the dragons and I both would prefer to avoid, due to allergies and, well, being toxic to their systems.

 

In the afternoon of our third day, we finally seem to find a suitable place. As we scout the island from the backs of our dragons, I spot several local species of dragons, which tells us this island is peaceful—for the most part.

 

“This looks pretty good,” Hiccup asseses as we soar through the sky, glancing at the island below. Astrid hums, “Those cliffs could work! Good sight lines, easily defendable…” I hum, adding: “Lots of local dragons, which we can train to help in battle and otherwise.” Hiccup nods, and Fishlegs comments, “The location is great, too!”

 

Ruff sighs, “it’s perfect!” and Tuff frowns, “Yeah,” he grumbles, “Too Perfect.” We redirect confused gazes and quirked brows to Tuff, and I ask, “ _What_ are you _talking_ about?”  

“I’m just saying,” Tuff says, “in the immortal words of the mighty Thor: ‘when something seems perfect, it probably…sucks.”

 

“Yeah,” Hiccup hums as I supress a snort, “you know I’m pretty sure Thor never said anything remotely like that.”

 

“Oh really?” Tuff drawls, “how do you know? Do you know Thor? Have you talked to him recently?”

 

“No, but—”

 

“Well, because I have, and I don’t recall him mentioning you.”

 

I roll my eyes, “you’re getting off topic,” I growl, then roll my shoulders and speak, “Point is: this place is great, beautiful and racially diverse.” I look at Tuff, pointedly, “It’s perfect, Tuffnut.”

 

Tuff pouts, “but, consider: I have a feeling,” I roll my eyes, “and we all know what happens when I get a feeling!”

 

“We ignore it?” Astrid says, and I snort, “Mostly.”

 

“Mark my words,” Tuff announces, “There will be something wrong with this island, something mysterious!” he begins to chant, ominously, “Something….. _something_ …..”

 

“Ya finished?” Ruff deadpans, and I roll my eyes as I lead the group to a clearing, where we land. As soon as our feet touch the grass, we break off into two separate groups: Hiccup and I worry about setting up camp, while the other riders huddle around a sketch in the dirt.

 

“Okay,” Hiccup sighs, face facing Toothless, “first thing we need to do it set up camp. We need dry wood for the fire, we need fresh water, and we need someone on traps, slash, patrol.” I hum, also not facing the huddled riders, “I cant take care of traps and patrol,” I offer, and Hiccup hums, “okay, that takes care of that—”

 

“Snotlout, what is that?” Astrid’s voice interrupts, causing the both of us to glance at each other, before glancing to the riders as Snotlout scoffs, “It’s an ‘S’, for Snotlout,” he grins, “I think aesthetically it would look nice flying over it.”

 

Astrid scoffs, “That’s ridiculous,” she hisses, “it doesn’t matter what the outpost looks like,” she balls her hand to a fist, “it needs to be _functional_ , and _operational_.” Hiccup and I share a look, then approach and he stammers, “Uh, guys?” several pairs of eyes turn to us, “what we really need is—”

 

“Is a place for rest,” Fishlegs interrupts, “relaxation, and replenishing after a hard day’s work,” he grabs for something near Meatlug, “you’re absolutely right, and, look, Meatlug and I had some thoughts—” he pulls out a model of an outpost, made with rocks and sticks.

 

“Is that a hot tub?” Astrid asks, pointing to a circular structure in the center. Fishlegs scoffs, “No! That’s the mud bath,” he points to another structure, “the hot tub’s over here.”

 

Toothless growls, and Hiccup sighs, “Tell me about it,” as I huff a laugh.

 

“Wait a minute,” Tuff interrupts the budding argument, “Everyone stop. I don’t see it.”

 

“See what, exactly?” I ask, bewildered.

 

“The boar pit!”  he exclaims, “where is it? Where’s the boar pit?”

 

“You see,” Ruff supplies, “the centerpiece of any good outpost is a boar pit.”

 

“Why?” I ask.

 

“Everybody needs a little entertainment every now and then, don't they?” he replies, voice dark, and I find my eyebrows rising in shock.

 

“Well,” Fishlegs mumbles, “we do know where to get boars...”

 

Hiccup and I share a look, then he nods at Toothless. Toothless fires a plasma blast at the S in the ground, and all attention in on him, suddenly.

 

“Whoops! Sorry about that,” he shrugs, sounding not at all sorry, “Okay, so, uh, now that we have your attention, we really need to set up camp for the night.”

 

Tuff frowns, “Wait, what about the—”

 

“Dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah—” Hiccup interrupts, “we-we'll talk about the outpost design in the morning. For now, someone needs to get the water.“ the riders groan, and slink off to take care of their tasks.

 

Snotlout grumbles to Astrid as they go, “Ugh, I don’t know about you, but I like whiny Berk Hiccup way better than Princess Outpost Hiccup.” Astrid smirks, “I know right,” she says, before giving Hiccup two thumbs up, briefly. As they step out of earshot, I quirk a brow at Hiccup, who mirrors my expression.

 

We snort, eventually dissolving into a fit of giggles.

 

“Well then,” Hiccup gasps, finally catching his breath, then bowing theatrically, “Shall we get to work, milday?” I snort, swatting his hand away, causing him to stand up properly again, “must you make a scene out of _everything_?” I ask, jokingly. Hiccup shrugs, “my dad always says my mom was quite the dramatic character,” he shrugs, passing me, “I must get it from her.”

 

I roll my eyes, following, “clearly.”

 

 

As we’re collecting firewood, backs turned to each other, Hiccup hums, “Hey, Eira,” and I make a purring sound, signaling that I’d heard him, and he continues, “Can we, er, can we talk?”

 

The way he asks has me freezing in my tracks, and slowly raising my head to meet his gaze. “Well,” I say, averting my gaze briefly, before meeting his again, “you have a mouth, so—have at it.”

 

He rolls his eyes, stowing the collected wood away before walking up to me, “I’m serious.”

 

I smile, blinking innocently, “as am I.”

 

He rolls his eyes, coming to stand directly in front of me as he speaks, “It’s…about what you said,” he meets my gaze, honesty seeping out from every pore, “about me being your hero.”

 

I tilt my head, pouting, “what about it?” I ask.

 

“You shouldn’t call me that.”

 

The words fall over me like a tidal wave—unrelenting, surprising, and breathtaking.

 

“what?” I manage to choke out, “why--?”

 

“It’s inaccurate,” he says, hand running through his hair, “I mean,” he averts his eyes briefly, and I find myself copying the gesture, “I didn’t save you, after all,” he meets my eyes with a look I can’t place, “you did that yourself.”

 

He bends down to pick up a piece of wood, and hands it to me with a smile, voice soft:

 

“You’re not the kind of person who needs to be saved. You do that well enough on your own.”

 

I pause, blinking, letting his words wash over me like a wave, before I smirk.

 

“Is that why you wait so long to come find me when I run off?”

 

He blinks, then scratches the back of his neck, cheeks flushed, “Well, that’s….that’s a different story altogether.” I beam, “Oh yeah?” I tilt my head, leaning closer, into his personal space, “care to elaborate?”

 

“Well,” he hums, nervous, “I…I just assume you need your own time. Time to recharge. I guess.” He shakes his head, “That’s not the point—” his hands grabs my shoulders, and I briefly glance at them, “—the point is that you’re strong, and independent, and—and…” he falters, face suddenly growing very red, “you…shouldn’t have rely _on_ , or…or bend down _to_ anyone,” he grumbles.

 

My lips form an ‘O’, eyes widening, and I mewl, before letting a shocked word fall from my lips:

 

“Oh.”

 

He draws away, slowly, and when his hands leave me, my skin still burns from where he touched as he retrieves the gathgered wood.

 

“We should head back,” he says, back facing me, “it’s getting dark.”

 

 

he begins to return to the camp, and after catching my breath in a deafening silence, I choke out a breath, and follow.

 

Xxx

 

As we’re sitting around the camp fire, Hiccup and I somehow end up snuggled up next to each other. A position I’d been finding myself in rather frequently, in recent days. He’s propped one of his legs up leisurely, arm resting on it, while I have both knees pulled to my chest, arms wrapped around them, keeping them in place. Conversation with the gang flows naturally, until Toothless perks up, sniffing the air, then growling.

 

“What is it, bud?” Hiccup asks, to which Tuff supplies: “I'll tell you what it is,” he pauses, “Rats. Rats the size of yaks.” He falters, “No, it could also—” he breaks off, “is it? Yaks the size of rats? Yak-rats!” he freezes, then chuckles, “ Great, those would be adorable. No, no!” he flails his arms, “I know what it is. Yaks the size of dragons,” he addresses Toothless, “right Toothless? Ya feel me, T?“

 

Toothless huffs, firmly planting his head back under Saphhire’s.

 

“There 's no such thing as yaks the size of dragons,” Fishlegs scoffs. I hum, opening my mouth to add something, but Tuff interrupts when he pops out from between Astrid and Fishlegs, “Yak-dragons to you, my friend,” he winks, “And when you hear their cries...you'll believe. Trust me.“

 

Then, he begins to howl, “Rak-ay-ya-ya-na-na-na-na-oh! ---- Puh Poo.”

 

We all glance around the group, and I finally quirk my brow at him, asking: “How did you do that with your mouth?”

 

“Hmm,” he hums, ignoring me, “Let _that_ roll around in your head for a minute.”

 

“Alright, Tuff,” Hiccup sighs, putting an end to the charade, “knock it off.”

 

Snotlout huffs, “Yeah, you're not scaring anyone.”

 

To test the claim, Tuff gets all up in his face, taunting, “Really? What if there were...snakes out there in the dark!” Snotlout backs up into Hookfang, “Hm? Giant snakes? Snakes big enough to swallow a man whole and then barf out his bones?” Snotlout whimpers as Tuff roars, “Bleh-ehh-ehh-ehh!“

 

“Ha,” Snotlout scoffs, “Please…barfing out bones…” he glances around, then pulls Hookfang’s wing over him like a protective blanket. When he sees our unimpressed gazes, he growls, “What?”

 

“That’s right,” Tuff says, standing as we sink deeper into our bed-substitutes, “Go to bed! Sleep! If you can...“

 

I roll my eyes, automatically curling up into a defensive ball next to Hiccup’s evenly breathing chest.

 

**Hiccup**

I know this isn’t the first time I’ve slept near Eira. However, each and every time I’m taken aback by the way she curls into herself when doing so. Like a dragon, to the point that I have to remind myself not to run my hands over her back. And it takes all my self control not to kiss her temple, bathed in moonlight.

 

I’ve also noticed that the chances of her waking up from nightmares decreases when one of two criteria are met:

 

Either, she is sleeping under the stars, or…

 

With me.

 

Thinking about it makes my chest swell, and lulls me into a sense of calm as I fall asleep, leaning on Toothless.

 

Xxx

In the middle of the night, Tuff wakes us up, claiming to have seen a ‘colossal’ dragon.

 

“Chicken! Roaring! Roaring huge chicken! Chicken roar!“ he yelps as we wake to his screaming with a start. I hear Eira groan as I stand, groggily.

 

Fishlegs frowns, sleepily, addressing me, “Is he saying that he saw a big roaring chicken?” Tuff hears this, and shakes his head, “Not chicken...dragon,” he corrects, dropping into the realm of hysterics, “Huge! Massive! What's another word?” he stares Eira dead in the eye, “Colossal.“

 

“But what happened to the chicken?” Fishlegs asks, and Tuff yelps, “Forget the chicken!” then screams, causing Eira to wince, “WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!“

 

Astrid yawns, “is anyone falling for this?” Ruff shrugs, seeming genuinely intrigued, “I don't know,” she hums, “I haven't seen him this freaked out since he found a leech on his—"

 

Eira claps her hand onto Ruff’s lips, shutting her up as she grumbles, “Okay, I’m going to stop you there,” removing it, she grumbles, “I’d very much like to be able to live my life without envisioning _that_.”

 

“okay, fine,” I sigh, exasperated, “let's just check this out, so we can all go back to sleep.”

 

 

As Tuff leads us through lush forests, Eira seems to become quite intrigued—can’t say I blame her, following Tuff around unknown regions is always fun.

 

Note the sarcasm.

 

As we step into a clearing, Tuff monologues:

 

“OK, when this giant beast rips us limb to limb I will expect a full apology from each and every one of you,” he points to each of us, then turns his back to us, “And a handshake. No, you won't be able to shake hands 'cause your limbs will be gone.“

 

“Doesn’t that imply that we’ll be, I don’t know,” Eira drawls, then deadpans, “dead?”

 

A rustle from ahead draws our attention, and Tuff prepares to pounce into another clearing. He shushes us, before jumping into the clearing with a war-cry, and begins to karate chop the air. When nothing comes to attack, he drops his arms. The chicken that must’ve been there earlier is still here, though.

 

“Seriously?” Eira deadpans, her shoulders slumping.

 

“No, no,” Tuff protests, “no, it was here! And it was huge! I'm not making this up!” he insists, then, addressing the chicken, “Here, tell them. You were standing right there. Tell them, chicken.“

 

The chicken clucks, and we stare blankly at Tuffnut, before turning back to the camp. Ruff lags behind, and I hear her say: “Uh, you're scaring me, bro. OK? And we shared a room.“ Before she catches up to our retreating forms.

 

 

 

In the morning, after breakfast, the first order of business is the subject of the outpost-design.

 

“OK, now,” I yawn, stretching, “let's talk outpost.” Astrid, ever the dependable, immediately pops up between Eira and I, holding a piece of parchment and she sings, “Since you brought it up, I've been working on my designs,” she unrolls the parchment, and begins to point to various images on it, “We'll set up look-out posts with interlocking fields of fire and-„

 

“And never get any rest,” Fishlegs cuts in, “But here, in my meditation garden,” he presents, showing us his model once more. Snotlout scoffs, “Neither of those is S-shaped, did you _not_ see my design?” behind them, Ruff appears, bit by bit, chanting ‘boar pit’ again and again.

 

 

“Guys,” I say, sternly, “guys guys guys li-listen to me.” finally, they quiet down enough for me to speak, “Okay,” I nod, sparing a glance at Eira before addressing the group again, “we need _one_ idea. We can't design five different outposts.”

 

Suddenly, an idea strikes me.

 

“Orrr...” I drawl, “can we?” I smile at Ruff, “You know what? Boar pit, great idea!“ I declare, and she leans away, shocked.

 

“Whoa,” she huffs, “what just happened.”

 

“S-shaped?” I continue, “love it!”

 

Snotlout whimpers, “Don't freak me out, Hiccup! It gives me the willies...”

 

“I think the ‘freak me out’ gave that bit away,” Eira comments, and I continue, “I'm just saying let's all come up with a design that we each think is the best and then we'll vote on it. Does that sound fair?“

 

The others look at me, some shocked, others—like Astrid and Eira—suspicious.

 

Eira pouts, golden eyes staring me down as she asks, “What are you up to?” Flustered, I stammer, “N-nothin'! Nothing at all!” I laugh, nervously as Astrid quirks her brow at me, “Just trying to keep the troops happy.” I shrug, “You know what they say, uh,” I hesitate, probably undermining my statement, “happy troops are, uh, happy...groups...?” finally, they relent, giving in as they disperse to build models. As Ruff passes, I tap her shoulder, “Hey, uh, speaking of troops, Ruff, where's your other half?“ I ask. Ruff huffs, shaking me off, “Don't ask me! All I know is that this boar pit is _not_ gonna dig itself.”

 

I glance at Eira, who furrows her brows at me. I smile, uncertainly. She sighs, shaking her head, muttering: “you’re a disaster dressed in leather and a peg leg.” I blink, then smile crookedly, “thank…you?” I say, questioning that. She rolls her eyes, before walking off behind the others.

 

I watch her leave for a moment, not following until my eyes threaten to adventure too low…

 

 

Xxx

A little while later, Eira is sitting beside me as I lounge against Toothless, while the others build models for ‘their’ outposts. I take a deep breath as the silence stretches between us.

 

“Do you hear that?” I ask, both my dragon, and the girl sitting next to me, “That's the sound of peace and quiet.” She snorts, “So this was your plan?” she asks, “to shut them up?” I shrug, “you can’t prove that,” I remind her, and she laughs, “Hoho, is that a challenge?” she asks, face closing in on mine. I huff, turning away, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

She shakes her head, returning to her notebook, and I sigh. “You know,” I point out, making her slowly turn her head, then her eyes to me, “making them work together might be the best idea I've ever had.“

 

She scoffs, “don’t speak prematurely,” she warns, and, as if on cue, Snotlout and Fishlegs begin to argue over a specific rock.

 

With a sigh, I drop my head into my hands, and Eira laughs, “Told you so~!” I groan, standing, “yeah, yeah.” She hums, following me as she dusts of her skirt, “I want you to say it,” she demands, twirling around herself as she goes to stow away her notebook and pencil. I roll my eyes, “Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

With a groan, I drawl: “You were right,” she beams, “and I was wrong.” I glance at her, unimpressed, “Happy?”

 

“Very.”

 

As we come to stand beside each other a little ways away from the chaos, Ruff walks up, throwing herself onto my side as she drawls, “Hey Hiccup, I'm ready for a dry run, do you want to be the boar?“ she cackles in a way that sends shivers down my spine, and I groan. When I glance at Eira, I think to see jealousy in her eyes.

 

I brush it off.

 

I couldn’t have been. She’s just annoyed with her.

 

Probably.

 

Just then, a very disheveled looking Tuffnut returns to camp. “Whoa,” Eira sighs, and Ruff grunts, “what happened to him?” Eira huffs, promptly grabbing a cup, and filling it with water before we walk over to where Tuff has seated himself.

 

“So,” Eira asks, handing him the beverage and plucking rubble off his shirt, “What have you been doing all day?” Tuff huffs, and quickly rids himself of the dirt, “searching for that colossal dragon!” he declares, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “obviously.”

 

I frown, “You've really been out there all day looking for that dragon?” I ask. Ruff huffs, “Instead of digging our boar pit.” She scoffs, “Priorities,” she punches my arm, playfully, “huh?“

 

“Or,” Eira offers, “he really _did_ see something.” Tuff scoffs, wiping his mouth, “Oh, I saw something. You did too,” he addresses the chicken, “you little backstabber. Tell them.” The chicken squawks, and he scoffs, “Aw, save it. You had your chance.“ ignoring that weird exchange, Ruff insists, “Or, this whole thing is a bunch of stinky yak dung.”

 

Tuff growls, “You know what? First of all, yak dung, when made into a nice tea, can be quite a-ro-ma-tic.”

 

Ruff hums, “Agreed...but, I still think you're just trying to scare everybody. There's no dragon out there“

 

„Yes, there is, Ruffnut. You willing to put your mutton where your mouth is?”

 

“Oh-h-h, you're not suggesting-“

 

“Oh, I am! I'm _suggesting_ like a hot Gronckle in a lava pit. You know _exactly_ what that means.”

 

I stammer, utterly lost, “Wha-What is going on with you two?” Ruff growls, snapping: “Silence!” and Tuff huffs, “I officially declare Thorston Challenge.”

 

“Thorston what!?” I ask, bewildered, then, at Eira’s calm attitude, I scoff, “why aren’t you confused?” she blinks, then shrugs, “oh, no, I am, I just chose not to be vocal about it.”

 

“Accepted!” Ruff interrupts, “Usual stakes?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“What?” I gasp, “Stakes?”

 

“It's better you don't know,” Tuff advises, before spitting into his palm and shaking his sister’s equally slobbery hand. As they leave, the others bump into us, and Toothless huffs. I groan, “I know, bud, I'm losing it too.“

 

Eira smirks, „in that case,” she says, then calls after the twins, “Ruff! Tuff! Wait up!” she hops onto Saphhire’s back, and I mirror the movement with Toothless, “How 'bout a couple of impartial judges for the Thorston Challenge?” I add, desperate, “For the love of Thor, take us with you--!”

 

Xxx

**Eira**

After the sun has already set, and we still don’t spot any ‘colossal’ dragons, and Tuffnut has fallen asleep, Hiccup sighs:

 

“Aaand that's probably where we should call it a night.”

 

“Sure,” Ruff agrees, cheerfully, “Since we never found that quote on quote yak-dragon, declare me the Thorston Challenge Winner and we can all go home!”

 

Hiccup glances at me, and I grimace, shrugging.

 

“Ah, okay,” he hums, “sure, um. By the power, ah,” he stammers, “vested in me I hereby declare that Ruffnut is the—”

 

Before he can finish, however, he’s interrupted by a dragon screech, followed by a—truly—colossal dragon emerging from the trees, seemingly out of nowhere.

 

“HOAH!” I gasp, as Saphhire flinches in surprise. “I don’t believe it,” Hiccup muses, eyes wide, filled with wonder. Ruff scoffs, “me neither,” she grumbles, “Tuffnut wins the Thorston Challenge.” Tuff jeers, “Yes! Told you. Now, pay up!“ Ruff smacks him, and in retaliation his grabs her foot, leading to a brief fight—which I quickly break up.

 

“Guys, focus!” I demand, voice nearly a growl causing them to flinch. Hiccup hovers beside me, eyes following the dragon as it heads for camp, “Look, it's headed straight for our campsite. If it catches those asleep on the ground...“ he says, drifting off. I nod, as do the twins, before rushing off.

 

“Hey--!” I shout, “don’t just _rush in_!” I warn, but am met with deaf ears. “Come on,” Hiccup urges, and we follow them quickly. We watch in awe as they fly into the dragon, and—

 

“it…scattered?” I ask, confused. Hiccup gasps, “.It's not one big dragon! It's tons of little ones!“

 

A white dragon squeaks, and they reform their colossal form. “They're joining back up around the white one!” exclaims, and Hiccup hums, “That must be their leader,” and I sigh in amazement, “amazing….”

 

The twins fly off again, and I ask, alarmed: “What are you doing?”

 

Without a word, they approach the white dragon, trapping him in a net. Triumphially, Tuff huffs, “Problem solved. Alright, let's head home.“

 

Hiccup grimaces, „I have a bad feeling about this,” he says, and I grumble, “oh, you too?” he pouts, and I sigh, returning back to camp.

 

 

 

Back at camp, we—aside from the twins—crowd around the newly discovered dragon. “Amazing,” Fishlegs muses. Astrid pouts, assessing, “It looks sort of like a Terrible Terror—“ she falters as the dragon screams, then, with a sour face, adds: “But...bigger and meaner.” Hiccup nods, “and they’re nocturnal.”

 

Snotlout blinks, confused. “You know,” I say, “they only come out at night?”

 

“Yeah!” Snotlout says, hastily, “I knew that. Noc-o-turnal. I was gonna explain that to them,” he glances at the twins, running around the chicken. “I say we call them,” Fishlegs begins, pausing for dramatic effect before rasping: “Night terrors!”

 

Fed up, the chicken flies into Fishlegs’ hands and bawks angrily.

 

“Hey,” Tuff says, protesting, “I saw it first, so _I_ get to name it.” The chicken bawks, an he huffs, “No, you always say that.” He hums, “Now, let's think about this logically. They come out at night, and they're terrifying. Terror of the night...” he hums again, then declares: “I've got it. Smidvarg and the Gang!“

 

We blink, blankly, then I speak:

 

“And Night Terrors it is.”

 

Suddenly, Smidvarg becomes agitated, and the hairs on my neck stand up in alarm. “What’s going on out there?” Astrid asks as a familiar roar takes us by surprise. “I don’t know,” Tuff admits, “but whatever it is, Smidvarg doesn't like it, and the Gang isn't paying attention.“

 

“That’s cause’ you separated him from ‘the gang’,” I deadpan, not even turning my body to spare him a glance. “Let's check it out,“ Hiccup hums. I nod, and when we take to the sky we immediately begin flying in V formation, me at Hiccup’s right side—as I always am.

 

 

After a few minutes of flying, I spot them:

 

“Hiccup! Dead ahead!” I point out, and he gasps, “Changewings!” Saphhire growls, and I pet her, “I know, girl,” I whisper, “I don’t really like them much, either.”

 

Hiccup gives the signal, and we charge.

 

After a brief, exhilierating battle, the Changewings retreat. However, the peace doesn’t last, as a larger flock approaches.

 

“Incoming!” Hiccup announces, after looking through his looking glass. I huff, “how many?” he shakes his head, defeated, “too many!” Fishlegs whimpers, “Why are they all coming here now?“

 

After a moment’s consideration, I blink in recognition, “because the island’s guardian is out of commission,” I muse, eyes wide.

 

“What?” I hear Astrid ask, but Hiccup is fast to explain, “It’s the Night Terrors!” he glances at me, “When we captured the white one they all split up!” I nod in affirmation, “Exactly.”

 

“Oh, of course!” Fishlegs gasps, “They flock into a shape of a giant version of themselves as a defense mechanism to scare off predators!“

 

“And now they can’t,” I grumble, and Astrid whimpers, “they’re lunch--!”

 

“Oh, I knew this was gonna be bad,” Hiccup mutters, before taking command, “OK, we have to help them. I'll head back for the white Night Terror. He's their leader,” he meets my eyes, nodding, “You guys hold them off as long as you can.“ I nod, promptly leading our counterattack.

 

 

We start to chase the Changewings away, but they’re tough as always, knocking us around as if we weighed nothing. At one point, a changewing narrowly misses my back, and another smacks into Saphhire and I, and we crash. They open their mouth again to fire, and in my white-hot, blind protectiveness, I pull out my knives, standing between them and my dragon, when suddenly—

 

The Night Terrors regroup, roar, and scare off the Changewings.

 

“Yes!” I shout, jumping up in glee as I laugh, “Hahaha! They did it, Saph!” I hear the wind howl, a signal that Toothless is passing by.

 

 

I can’t help the smile that stretches on my lips.

 

Xxx

 

Later that night, neither Hiccup, nor I can get back to sleep. However, for various reasons. For my part: insomnia. For him? Creativity.

 

“Whatcha working on?” I ask, rubbing my eyes as I peer over his shoulder, as he hunches over a piece of parchment. He glances at me, then resumes drawing a sketch of…huts.

 

“A sketch of Dragon’s Edge,” he explains. I pout, confused, “Dragon’s…Edge?” he nods, buzzing excitedly, “I thought that’s what we could call our base. Here, I had an idea inspired by Smidvarg—”

 

He brushes some charcoal off the page, and I shift so I’m sitting more comfortably as I listen to him talk.

 

“I thought each of us could build our own hut,” he explains, “and…in the center we’d have a club house,” he points to somewhere on the left side, “here would be the stables,” he points to the lower right, “somewhere here we’d have a dome for training.” He meets my gaze, green eyes alight.

 

“What do you think?”

 

I smile, humming, “Well, how were you going to connect them?” I ask. He hums, “well, we do have dragons—”

 

“and if they’re wounded? Out of commission?”

 

“Ah—”

 

I pick up the pencil, and begin to add bridges, stairs, and ziplines, connecting the huts, “we can connect them with brides and zip-lines,” I proceed to add names to each hut, adding another one, “we should also build a guest-house for visitors, and we should invite Noah to come here, it’d be good to have a healer on the edge who actually knows what they’re doing.”

 

Hiccup pauses, mouth agape as he looks at me, and I feel my cheeks warm involuntarily, until he grins.

 

“Sounds perfect,” he says, then goes on to show me who’s hut is whose.

 

Then, he points at pair of huts to the side, “and, this would be where you and I would have ours.” I falter, then.

 

“Hiccup?” I ask. He hums. “Yes?”

 

I open my mouth, then close it again, “nevermind,” I mutter, “it’s stupid.” I move to lay down again, but he grabs my arm, pulling me back, “Eira, tell me what you’re thinking,” he urges, “please.”

 

I blink, wavering under his green-eyed scrutiny. Finally, I sigh, unable to resist him for long.

 

“I was just,” I bite my lip, “wondering if maybe,” I lick my lips, averting my gaze, “we could…live…together.” Nervously, I flick my gaze to meet his, then down again, and repeat this for several more seconds. When he remains silent for too long, I grunt, moving away.

 

“Ugh, forget it,” I groan, “it was stupid—”

 

I stand, and suddenly feel a wrap hand wrap around my wrist, and I falter. When I glance down, his gaze is averted, as he mumbles:

 

“I….I’d like that.”

 

My cheeks catch on fire—though I’m unsure as to why, exactly—and I smile.

 

“Then,” I hum, beaming, “that settles that, I suppose.”

 

 

 

**Hiccup**

When we return to Berk as per my dad’s request—in order to relocate a local scauldron-- and invite Noah to the edge a week later, the excitement from rooming with Eira has worn off—but I still feel jittery when she tells me to ‘remember to bring something to decorate _our_ house with’.

 

Our first order of business is to invite Noah, above all else. Luckily, he greets us when we land after a failed scauldron-extraction, his Sand Wraith—Sandstorm—barking at us excitedly as we settle on the grass. As soon as Eira and I slip off Saphhire and Toothless respectively, they bound towards Sandstorm, and the dragons reunite.

 

“Eira!” Noah gasps, immediately running to her, and wrapping his arms around her. she laughs, “Noah! Hehe!” she giggles as they draw away from one another, “Ya miss me?” Noah scoffs, rolling his eyes, “ _Clearly_ , I did.”

 

Noah’s expression softens, “How’s life in the great unknown?” he asks, head tilted playfully. Eira smiles, rolling her eyes, “oh you know,” she leans in close to snicker, “ **great**.”

 

Eira loops her arm with Noah’s and they begin to walk down the town’s center, heading for the Hall as she drawls, “By the way, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you~.”

 

Later that day, the Thor Bonecrusher thing happens.


	19. Between the Lines

**Hiccup**

A few days pass in which we get Noah settled on the Edge, and start getting the stables built and train some local dragons. amongst these dragons is Eira’s new friend Spike, a green and orange Deadly Nadder. We also add two extra buildings to our hut: a workshop, for me, and a small library-like hut for Eira.

 

One day, we’re relaxing in the workshop—my workshop—next to our hut, talking idly as I mess with the dragon eye, trying out new combinations.

 

“You know, you have turned into _quite_ the Princess,” she remarks, seemingly out of nowhere.

 

I roll my eyes, glaring at her. she laughs at that.

 

“Why are we friends again?” I ask.

 

“Unfortunate circumstances,“ she shrugs.

 

While she isn’t far off, I still find myself shaking my head.

 

“Why?” she asks.

 

“I was contemplating backing out.”

 

She snorts, “what, is our friendship a contract now?”

 

“Wasn’t it always?”

 

As I break down in a fit of laughter, she laughs dryly, “ha-ha-ha, you’re not funny, Haddock,” she glowers, pursing her lips before sucking them in, a desperate--and failed--attempt at keeping the giggle contained inside her.

 

We laugh with each other, and I’m relieved at how easily conversation flows with her.

 

“I hate you,“ she laughs. I chuckle, “I know.”

 

I hum, pressing a button on the dragon eye, illuminating the wall. “Okay, we’ve seen this before,” I muse, “but what happens if I push...” I press a button, and the image changes. Eira whistles, “Cool. Dragon classes.” I smirk at her, offering, “What do you say we check out the Night Fury?” I nudge Toothless, who yawns. Eira snorts, and I huff, “Try to contain your excitement, would you?”

 

Eira giggles, and Toothless grumbles as I continue my research by pressing a button, “Now, Monstrous Nightmare gem plus,” I turn a lens into place, “equals—”

 

Something appears on the wall, then flickers, and dies.

 

“Nothing,” I huff, and Eira snorts again. I readjust the Eye’s setting as I turn to the door, and as it starts up again, the door swings open, and Astrid enters.

 

“Oh!” I gasp, “Astrid class,” I chuckle, and Eira rolls her eyes, jumping off the chest on which she was perched as Astrid scoffs, “Hiccup, we have a problem, a huge problem.“

 

“Dagur?” I guess, and she grimaces, “Worse.”

 

“Psh,” Eira scoffs, “What could possibly be worse than Dagur?”

 

Just then, a familiar pink Monstrous Nightmare crash-lands in the door—on top of Astrid—and it’s rider declares, cheerfully:

 

“Gustav!”

 

“Gustav?!” Eira and I exclaim.

 

I blink, disbelieving, as Gustav slips off Fanghook, and Astrid groans, confirming: “Gustav.”

 

Xxx

Gustav stays for 2 days, getting into more trouble than we used to in a week, before returning to Berk after a harrowing encounter with Dagur. A few days later, when I wake up to an empty bed, I find myself worrying.

 

Eira is a fairly early riser, so it’s not unusual for her to be reading or writing when I wake up, but when she abandons our hut, I worry.  

 

Not only is Eira an early riser, but she is also an insomniac. Which doesn’t help anyone. I sigh, and roll out of bed. The first place I check is the most obvious—her library. Toothless trots behind me, seeming to be looking for Saphhire.

 

He whimpers when we don’t find them there, and I pat his head. “I know, Bud,” I say, “I’m worried, too.”

 

Next, we check the nearby beach. Thankfully, we find her there, curled up against Saphhire.

 

“Well,” I sigh, causing her to crane her head around to look at me, as does Saphhire, “good morning to you, milady.”  She rolls her eyes as I land, and Saphhire and Toothless run off to play in the water as I take a seat next to her.

 

There are dark bags under her eyes, and her hair is even messier than usual. In an attempt to tame it, she’s tied it into a tighter ponytail.

 

“Wow,” I sigh, “you look miserable.”

 

She scoffs, then, without missing a beat: “The outside finally matches the inside.”

 

I roll my eyes as she chuckles. “I’m being serious,” I say, as sternly as I can, despite my grin. She grins back, perhaps brighter, wider: “So am I.”

 

I roll my eyes, moving closer. Eira hums. I tilt my head to the side, carefully studying her.

 

“Another nightmare?” I question.

 

A shrug. A huff. “Well if my sleeping schedule already wasn’t ran over by a wagon, it is now,” she sighs. I frown.

 

She meets my eyes, and after holding it for a minute, sighs as she looks away.

 

““Do you wanna talk about it?” I ask.

 

She shakes her head.

 

“No, I’m fine. It’s a panic attack for another day, another time.”

 

 

Eira is guarded. It’s a fact, one I’d barely noticed before. It’s quite blaringly obvious though, now that we share a home.

 

“Well,” I sigh, “I’m going to see if Fishlegs is up yet,” I push myself up, “He wanted to count the dragons living on the edge today.” I huff a laugh, “he better get started soon.”

 

Eira laughs, and though it’s not her boisterous, open laugh, it’s something.

 

I’m willing to take it.

 

“Okay,” she says, “I’m right behind you,” she hums as I offer her my hand in order to help her stand. I pull her to her feet, and she stumbles into me a bit.

 

I hesitate.

 

She hesitates.

 

As the silence grows uncomfortable, she pushes herself off me, murmuring a ‘sorry’, and scurrying over to Saphhire.

 

Yep. Definitely over-tired.

 

Xxx

 

Later that day, Fishlegs tells us that he needs to show us something. Along with Snotlout, Noah, Astrid and the twins, we fly over the island, which is slowly becoming crowded with Fireworms.

 

 

“It began with one Fireworm,” Fishlegs explains, “and as we were flying back, we kept seeing more and more.“ Astrid hums, “do you think they’re migrating?” Eira frowns, “If they were migrating, the whole island would be on fire,” she explains, “These guys are most likely scouts for a _coming_ migration.”

 

Fishlegs nods, “When Fireworms migrate, they send out scouts to see if their migration route is safe,” he elaborates, then falters, muttering, “If this is a stop along that route…“ Noah huffs, concluding: “An entire flock of Fireworms could be coming through here.” Eira nods, “Precisely.”

 

Tuff grins, “Well, I say bring 'em on!” he announces, “I love those little scorchers.” I scoff, “Are you still gonna love them when they all land here and burn our entire island to the ground?” and he falters. He hesitates before hastily replying: “Yes! Wait, no. Wait, is that a trick question? Because it's pretty tricky.“

 

Astrid ignores him in favor of asking Fishlegs and Eira: “How much time do we have?”

 

“Hard to say,” Fishlegs muses, and Eira guesses: “my guess is until next week.” Fishlegs nods, “if it’s a full migration, that’s the most accurate.”

 

“Huh,” Snotlout scoffs, “Good to know. It's been nice knowing you, island. Snotlout is outlout!“ he announces, turning to leave. I chase him, and cut him off as I protest, “We're not abandoning the island, Snotlout.“ he scoffs again, “Uh, yeah,” he nods, “we are. Watch.“

 

“Guys,” I say, sternly, “we put too much hard work into this place to just leave.” I glower at him, “Snotlout is not "outlout." We're staying,” I meet Eira’s gaze, and catch her smile before proceeding: “Now let's get to work.”

 

Snotlout pouts, “Fine! But I still like my plan better!”

 

 

I give each rider a job to do—even Noah—and we get to work.

 

Xxx

 

We regroup in the afternoon, and after confirming that the others have done what I asked them to, I sigh, exasperated, “Now if the twins would finally get back, we can find out what they've done“

 

Snotlout huffs, arms crossed, “Oh, I can tell you what they've done,” he begins to list them: “Zero, zip, zilch. I'm forgetting something.” He hesitates, “Oh, yeah, goose egg!” he says. Eira rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to speak, when Tuff enters:

 

“Au contraire, my fine fellow,” he grins, “we have done quite a lot, actually.”

 

I quirk my brow, “Did you clear the brush?”

 

“No.”

 

“Build a fire break?” Eira asks.

 

“Nope, not that.”

 

“Water?” Noah asks, “did you bring any, at all?”

 

“Couldn’t. too busy.”

 

“Busy with what!?” I ask, bewildered.

 

“Finding something awesome.“

 

„Something more awesome that fire-proofing the base?” Noah deadpans, to which Ruff beams:

 

“Leagues awesomer.”

 

Xxx

 

The twins lead us to a cliff, on top of which, by the edge, stands a single boulder, with words carved into the mossy surface.

 

Ruff spreads her arms, pride pouring out of her voice as she proclaims, “Behold!” she plants her hands on her hips, “We call it the Namey Rock.“

 

“Oh yeah,” Noah hums, brow quirked as he crosses his arms, “and why’s that?”

 

“Duh,” Tuff deadpans, “’cause it has our names all over it.” He beams, “cool, huh?”

 

Snotlout hums, “Oh, yeah,” then scowls, “I mean, no. Man, you two are completely ridiculous.” Ruff huffs, “Ridiculous? Perhaps, but, answer me this: where’s your namey rock?”

 

Snotlout groans, and the twins laugh, then crash their heads together. As I roll my eyes, Fishlegs steps forward to properly inspect the ‘namey-rock’. His expression drops, and Noah reacts to it, walking up to the boulder as well. almost immediately, he pales.

 

“What is it?” Eira asks him. Noah mutters, “you guys might want to see this.” Fishlegs hums as we approach, “I think…it’s a claim stone.”

 

I frown, reading the carved words, “I, Magmar Thorston, hereby claim this island in my name and the name of all my family, present and future, forever and ever.”

 

Tuff beams, “and what else?”

 

I look again, and grunt, “and ever,” I meet Eira’s gaze, “apparently.”

 

“HA!” Tuff laughs, “Long-lost great Uncle Magmar! Oh, my Thor!” he turns to Ruff, “Wasn't he the one who could pass an entire cod through one nostril?”

 

Ruff nods, “And debone it at the same time?” she wipes away an imaginary tear, “It's really a lost art.” Tuff shakes his head in disappointment, “People just don't appreciate the craftsmanship.”

 

Snotlout groans, throwing his arms up, “Oh, come on!” his arms return to his hips, “That stone is a fake,” he gestures to the boulder, “It's so obvious that these two made it up.”

 

“I don’t think so,” Fishlegs cuts in, sadly, and Noah nods, “Yeah. For one, everything is spelled correctly.”

 

Snotlout falters. “okay,” he admits, “you may have a point.”

 

“Let me get this straight,” Astrid says, dryly, “these two,” she gestures to the twins, “own this,” to our ground, “island?”

 

Fishlegs sighs, dejected, “It would appear that way.”

 

Tuff cheers, “In your face!” with Ruff supplying, “We are so in charge of this place!” Tuff whistles, “Whoo-hoo! Oh, preach, sister.“ She complies: „Well! According to this stone—“ she’s cut off by her brother’s palm over her lips, and him saying: “That was a rhetorical preach.”

 

Snotlout mounts Hookfang, moving to leave, and Tuff scoffs, “Hey, where are you going, subject?“ Snotlout huffs, “Ha! You may be in charge of this island, but you're not in charge of me.” Tuff clicks his tongue, “Respect the crown. Don't make us get ugly.”

 

Eira huffs, crossing her arms, “That ship sailed a long time ago.”

 

Tuff scoffs, and I quickly move to stand between him and Snotlout, “Clearly, we'll need a dungeon—” finally, I interrupt: “Okay, let's all just take a breath and calm down.” For a moment, calm settles on the clearing, and I take a deep breath, “The first thing we need to do is get this claim stone authenticated.”

 

“Right,” Tuff nods, as if understanding, before faltering, “and…how do we do that?”

 

Noah, who wasn’t usually one to give answers, speaks softly, but very anxiously: “Gobber,” he then addresses me, “should I send him a terror mail?” I contemplate for a moment, then nod, “tell him to have my dad bring him—he’ll be faster than by boat.”

 

Noah nods, promptly jogging off to find Chip, his terrible terror.

 

Xxx

 

When my dad and Gobber arrive, they immediately inspect the claim stone. And…

 

It’s authentic, as it turns out. Much to my friends’ dismay.

 

“This claim stone is 100% authentic,” Gobber confirms, and after the twins echo the statement, my riders complain:

 

“Uh-uh, no!”

 

“No!”

 

“What, no way?!”

 

“Are you _kidding_ me?”

 

“No, no no no **_no_**!”

 

“All right,” my dad bellows, “that’s enough.” He sighs, undoubtedly regretting having come at all, “It looks like this island officially belongs...” he mutters, “to the twins.”

 

They celebrate, and I feel Eira’s hair tickle my cheek as she leans in to whisper:

 

“This is all Gobber’s fault.”

 

Somehow, Eira knows exactly what to say to get me to snort, even in the face of such….impending chaos.

 

**Hiccup**

As Stoick hands over the ‘ownership’ to the twins, I bite back snarky remarks and a growl.

 

“As Chief of Berk, I hereby declare that under Viking law, the living heirs to Magmar Thorston are indeed entitled to full ownership of this island,  with all the benefits that comes with it.”

 

_Benefits? To me it sounds like disadvantages._

 

As Stoick retreats, the twins begin to celebrate. Before he can leave, I chase him, grabbing him by the arm and hissing, “Now, Dad, Dad, Dad,” I almost whimper, “you can't be serious. You're not leaving me with this?“ I gesture to the twins, still dancing in their glee, and Stoick huffs, “Uh, yes, I am.” He puts a hand on each of my shoulders, “Welcome to my world,” he begins to step away as Eira move towards us, probably knowing how terrifying she can be, “Only now it's your world.“

 

“Great,” Fishlegs mutters, “what now? Any ideas?” Snotlout hums, contemplative, “Oh, we could always--” he imitates a beheading with his hand, accompanied by a hiss, “--you know.”

 

Eira rolls her eyes, “we’re not killing the twins, Snotlout,” she says, before adding with a shrug: “although it is an idea.”

 

I glare at her, and she shrugs.

 

“Please tell me we're not giving them the island,” Astrid begs. The look Eira points at me is somewhat accusing, somewhat curious.

 

I feel like she knows what I’m going to say.

 

“Actually, we are,” I admit, looking at the twins expectantly, “We are giving them the island.”

 

Noah’s jaw drops, and Snotlout laughs obnoxiously, until he realizes I’m not joking.

 

“What.”

 

I shrug, “First of all, we don't really have a choice--” Eira looks at me as if I offended her, somehow, “--And second, once they find out being in charge isn't everything it's cracked up to be,” I chuckle, bitterly, knowing firsthand how it is, “and they have to deal with the Fireworm problem on their own, they will beg us to take the island back.”

 

“And if they don’t?” Astrid asks, forcing me to consider something I hadn’t.

 

We glance to them, witnessing as they bang their heads together. I hear Eira whimper, and can only agree. I say nothing.

 

The twins then address us, and ‘dismiss’ us, and we make our way to our dragons, who’d brought us up here. Eira lags behind, and before I can get too far, she grabs my wrist, pulling me back.

 

“Hey, could we talk quickly?” she asks, almost hopeful. I can’t bite back the witty retort she’d recently directed at me: “Well you do have a mouth,” I huff, “so please have a go at it.“

 

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, avoiding my gaze.

 

“About what you said earlier…” she hums, eyes slowly rising to meet mine, “about not having a choice?”

 

Wha— _oh._

She looks me in the eye, an easy smile on her lips that makes my heart race, and says:

 

“You _always_ have a choice.”

 

I frown.

 

“Some people will force my hand,” I say, remembering the war with Dagur, “I won’t have a choice, then.”

 

She shakes her head, “when people say ‘your options are this or that’,” she blows her bangs out of her face, “they’re just trying to get you to ignore the third one, Hiccup.” She licks her lips, and shrugs. “It’s a tough lesson to learn,” she turns, beginning to walk towards Saphhire with a pep in her step, “but I’m sure you’ll manage.”

 

As she takes off, I’m left staring after her, jaw on the ground. Toothless strolls up, laughing. I flinch, then glare at him.

 

“What?”

 

He purrs, and I furrow my brows at him.

 

Xxx

 

As Eira and I are lying on top and beside Toothless and Saphhire, reading our respective poisons—for me the Book Of Dragons, and for her a romance novel my dad gave her for her birthday last year—we hear the twins talking.

 

I sit up to glance at her. she’s sitting on the floor, leaning against her dragon, whose head is titled in curiosity. She meets my gaze, and shrugs. We silently agree to check it out, and get up.

 

Upon emerging outside, the twins immediately mention us.

 

“ _Hey, let's ask Hiccup and Eira.”_

_Tuffnut’s voice is somehow very irritating, and I’m relieved Eira is the one to ask: “Let’s ask Hiccup and Eira_ _what_ _, exactly?”_

_The twins, as I see as we turn around, and holding a sign above the club house, which reads: “Thorstonten”._

_“_ Our new Thorstonton sign,” Tuff replies, then asks: “does it need to be a little higher?”

 

I glance at Eira, who is staring at the sign in shock, and a little disgust.

 

“Thorstonton?“ I repeat.

 

„Yeah, the name of our island,” Ruff confirms. Tuff nods, dropping the sign, leaving Ruff to carry it alone. Eira looks at her with a hint of sympathy and Tuff speaks: “It came to us in a dream,” he puffs out his chest, nodding, “That's right... same dream. It's a twin thing.“

 

„Bullshit,“ Eira spits out, “You wouldn't understand” Tuff shoots back, “Anyway, thoughts on the sign?” he asks, right before Ruff drops the sign. Eira’s eyes follow the wood until he breaks on the floor, and she winces, before her eyes return to Tuffnut.

 

“You know what? Never mind,” Tuff waves it off, “We've got more important things on the agenda today.”

 

Eira and I lighten up, hopeful, and I (regretfully) comment: “I agree. We need to keep fireproofing the island.“

 

With a single word, Tuff destroys our dreams:

 

“No, no, no,” he says, “that's not it. We need to give out job assignments.”

 

I risk a glance at Eira, whose expression looks like it’s stuck between finding this humorous, and offensive.

 

“Excuse me?” she asks, and I follow it up by echoing: “Job assignments?”

 

Tuff nods, “Oh, we got some good ones. Come along, lad, lass. Don't be late.”

 

With a sigh, she mounts Saphhire, following the twins as I lag behind her.

 

Xxx

 

At the dome, where the ‘meeting’ is held, the twins hand out jobs. Yay us.

 

“All right, Fishlegs,” Tuff says, inspecting a piece of parchment, “Says here you are now the official poet laureate of Thorstonton.”

 

Fishlegs frowns, “do you even know what that means?”

 

“We were hoping you would!” Ruff replies, muttering, “It's your job, after all,” Eira shrugs, “she has a point,” she mutters, if not to Fishlegs or the twins, then herself.

 

Tuffnut continues: “ _Astrid, you are the official royal brush-clearer._ We don't want Thorstonton burning down, after all.“

 

Ruff contemplates this statement briefly, “or do we?” Tuffnut hums, and Astrid uses the window of silence to protest:

 

“I'm not clearing brush for you two!” she howls, “I'm not clearing jack shit for you two!”

 

Eira puts a hand on her shoulder, soothingly, “Come on, Astrid,” she says. Tuff raises his voice once more, “Oh. You'll do it. And you'll like it, little missy.“

 

Eira blinks, surprised by the ‘you’ll  like it’ comment, as Tuff moves on to Snotlout and Noah.

 

“Snotlout, you, my friend, have an excellent job,” he says, and Snotlout crosses his arms, doubting the twin. “You, sir, are our new sergeant at arms.“

 

Immediately, his demeanor changes, and becomes smug.

 

“Mm. I like the sound of that... "arms."“

 

Tuff hums, “knew you would. Now, Noah—” Noah flinches back, “—you will be in charge of gardening!” Noah blinks, mildly surprised, “oh,” he tuts, “okay.”

 

“All right, Hiccup,” Tuff sighs, addressing me, “Oh, Hiccup,” he smirks, “you are our new stable boy.”

 

I blink owlishly, then repeat, incredulous: “Stable Boy?”

 

Astrid and Eira snicker, and Eira adds: “Come on,” her voice becomes low, charged with something that makes my hair stand on end, “ _Stable_ _Boy_.”

 

Tuff clears his throat, “and, lastly, Eira.”

 

Eira straightens, visibly cheerier than she was a few moments ago. Tuff hums, “you, my dear, will be the weapons cleaner!”

 

Eira falters, looking as incredulous as I had, and I smirk, elbowing her, and I joke, smugly:

 

“Come on, _weapon cleaner_.”

 

“Shut your mouth, Haddock,” she hisses, “before I shut it for you.”

 

Despite not minding that—if she did—I shut up.

 

After establishing what a sergeant at arms does, and the twins reciting the rules, we all go our separate ways.

 

Eira and I head for the stables/weaponry.

 

The problem with Eira being assigned the weapons cleaner, was primarily that the only cleanable weapons on the Edge was Astrid’s axe, her knives, and Macey. And, well, my shield, technically.

 

So, she takes her time in washing them.  

 

A magenta Terrible Terror seems extremely attached to her as it remains on her shoulder for the remainder of the time she spends sitting on the edge of the stable-patio, washing Astrid’s axe.

 

“You really are the friend of all dragons,” I note, taking a brief break from washing Barf and Belch, “aren’t you?”

 

Eira turns to me, a smug smile on her lips and pride sparkling in golden eyes, “I like to think so,” she shrugs, “yes.”

 

I roll my eyes, and we turn back to our work.

 

A short while later, the twins stroll up to check on my progress.

 

**Eira**

As I wash Astrid’s axe, I’m reminded—by nothing in particular—of the last thing Hiccup told the twins before we went our separate ways:

 

_“Okay, while I'm doing this, you guys need to stay on top of this Fireworm thing. It's starting to get pretty real.“_

I smile at the memory. No matter what he, or anyone else, says, one thing is for sure: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III is a natural born leader.

 

As we fall into comfortable silence as we wash weaponry and dragons, the twins enter. We don’t bow, which they notice, nose tilted towards the sky, “Uh, aren't you forgetting something?” Tuff asks, right as I stand to put away the axe.

 

“What?” Hiccup asks, and I sigh, already bowing. He huffs, “Oh, right. Sorry,” and grunts as he bows aggressively. I place the axe back in it’s place, then return to the edge, where my own knives are waiting to be washed.

 

Tuff examines Hiccup’s work, humming, “Hmm, good. That's nice attention to detail.” Ruff scoffs, interrupting as she tests the wash-water, “Uh, we have a problem.” Hiccup huffs, “What? What's the problem?“ Tuff feels the water, and sighs, dejected, “pathetic.”

 

“Disgraceful,”

 

“Unacceptable,”

 

“What is it?” Hiccup groans, exasperated.

 

“This water is lukewarm,” he points out, “We pecifically asked for scalding,” he falters, muttering, “Sorry, calding, if I'm not miskaken.”

 

Ruff nods, “Oh, you are not mitaken, brother.”

 

Hiccup rolls his eyes, pointing at the bucket, angrily, “Fine, scald—” he winces, “--calding it is. Toothless—” another wince, “Toothle... Plama blat!“

 

The water explodes as fire meets wood, and the twins’ faces are covered in soot. I bite my lip to suppress a snort, as Tuff villainizes Toothless:

 

“I'm keeping an eye on you, Mr. Night Fury. My good eye.“

 

Hiccup frowns, confused, and perks up: “Wait, are you telling me you have a bad eye?”

 

“Wait, are you telling me you have a bad leg?” Ruff shoots back. Hiccup blinks, confused as I am, and Ruff huffs, “Thought so.”

 

Hiccup glances to me, shrugging, “And the weirdness continues.”

 

Xxx

 

Later in the day, when I show them the weapons I’ve cleaned, they charge me for landing in front of them with Saphhire.

 

“Uh,” I stammer, “No. sorry, but I cleaned your weapons, and, to me, that’s compensation enough.”

 

They share a look, then Tuff claps his hands. Suddenly, Hookfang and Snotlout appear, to escort me to jail.

 

“You’re childish,” I accuse, walking away. Tuff scoffs, “childish? Perhaps! But we are also the supreme rulers of Thorstonton!”

 

I roll my eyes, letting them escort me.

 

 

 

 

Snotlout eventually leads Fishlegs, Noah, Astrid and I from a cave to the stables, where we pass Hiccup.

 

“Snotlout,” he hums, confused, “what are you doing?“

 

Snotlout huffs, “Never you mind, table boy. This is official Thornton—” he falters, “--tonston business.” He opens a gate, and laughs, “Welcome to your new home, jailbirds.“ I roll my eyes as I pass, pointedly stepping on his foot with my heel as I pass. He hisses, sinking to his knees, “LOW BLOW, CRIMINAL!”

 

I click my tongue as the door stutters shut, and lean against the wall.

 

When he leaves, Hiccup walks up to the door, leaning against it in a way that can only be described as seductive, “so,” he smirks, “What are you in for?”

 

I growl, “funny,” and pout, arms crossed. Astrid scowls, “Exactly how long are you going to let this go on?” Noah nods, adding, “Have you seen all those Fireworms?“

 

Fishlegs nods, “Yeah, Hiccup, the migration is picking up steam.”

 

Meatlug farts, and we all whimper, and Fishlegs hisses, “Ho ho ho! She does not deal well with prison food.“

 

Hiccup groans, „Ugh. All right, all right,” he sighs, “I-I'll talk to them. I'm sure I can get this all straightened out.”

 

I nod, arms crossed and brow quirked, “you better.”

 

He nods, leaving us alone.

 

Once he’s gone, Fishlegs and Astrid trap me in a sandwich between their backs.

 

“So,” Fishlegs hums, “What’s going on with you n’ Hiccup?” Astrid asks, and I flinch, before ducking away from them and backing I into the wooden bars, waving my hands dismissively.

 

“What?” I question, incredulous, “what should be going on?” I laugh, nervous, “am I missing something?”

 

Astrid and Fishlegs share a look, and Astrid rolls her eyes, cocking her hip as Fishlegs crosses his arms, “come on, Eira,” he drawls, “we’ve seen the way you look at him—”

 

“—and he at you—”

 

“—and the way you touch each other—”

 

“—and talk—”

 

“—it’s so obvious.”

 

I scoff, waving them off, “you’ve got it all wrong,” I protest, then shake my head, smiling nonchalantly, “we’re just friends.”

 

Astrid and Fishlegs quirk a brow, each.

 

“Just friends,” Fishlegs repeats, “who cuddle constantly,” Astrid adds, “and hug _way_ more, and longer, than necessary?”

 

I shrug, “are hugs even necessary, really?”

 

This stumps Fishlegs. “She has a point.”

 

Astrid rolls her eyes, stomping towards me, finger pointed at me, “the point is: you and Hiccup have some serious romantic tension, and it’s driving me crazy.”

 

I pout, crossing my arms, “we do not,” I protest, “and I would appreciate it, if you dropped the subject, Hofferson.”

 

The use of her last name causes her posture to drop, and a flash of guilt to cross her features. She bites her lip, withdrawing as she rubs her arm, “sorry,” she mutters.

 

I hum. I sigh.

 

“It’s fine,” I say, forcing a smile, “no harm meant, right?”

 

Astrid nods, “right.”

 

I offer a smile, but her words are already nestled in the front of my mind, and have no intentions of letting go.

 

 

 

 

Not even 30 minutes later, he joins us in the ‘cell’. Feeling particularly salty, I lean against him and drawl: “So what you in for?”

 

He sighs, “Eira, please.”

 

“What?” I shrug, “Just trying to be funny.”

 

Not long after, we watch as Snotlout throws himself into jail.

 

“Um,” Noah stammers, “What?”

 

“I was framed,” Snotlout tells Noah, a pleading look in his eyes. Fed up, Astrid groans, “All right, that's it,” she announces, “We're breaking out of here.”

 

“Great!” Snotlout cheers, immediately happier, “then we go back to my plan,” he says, then repeats his beheading gesture from this morning. Hiccup sighs, “Guys, guys,” he soothes, “we're fine. There's nothing to worry about.”

 

I quirk a brow at him, unimpressed. He chuckles.

 

“I mean,” he huffs, “the twins can't be that oblivious!“ Noah clicks his tongue, “I think you’re seriously giving them too much credit,” he says, promptly pointing to the burning horizon. I grimace, “That smoke's getting close,” I glance at the group, “And where there's smoke...”

 

Fishlegs growls, “there’s fireworms.”

 

Finally relenting, Hiccup sighs, a mix of angry and exasperated, “All right, you know what? Experiment over,” he grunts, “We are getting out there and stopping them before there's nothing left of this island.” I nod, turning to stand beside him as Astrid sighs, relieved: “Finally.”

 

“Toothless,” he says, “plasma blast.”

 

He fires up, and right before shooting, the twins appear on the other side of the cell.

 

“Hold!” I shout, and Toothless swallows the blast, resulting in a sigh from the dragon.

 

“Hey, uh, guys?” Tuff says, nervously. Snotlout glowers, “Now's our chance. Hookfang, destroy!“ before the dragon can react, Hiccup rushes to stand between the twins and him, putting on an overly satisfied tone as he speaks:

 

“Oh, hey, rulers! How's stuff in the old kingdom?”

 

I smirk, playfully, as I add, “Having lots of fun with all the fireworms?”

 

“Yes,” Tuff says, at first still stubborn, before he falters, “No.” he groans, “Okay, fine. As it turns out, we can't save Thorstonton by ourselves.” He takes a deep breath, puffing out his chest, “So we talked about it, and we hereby decree that you can all come and help us put out the fires.”

 

“Oh, joy,” Noah deadpans, but Hiccup hums, shrugging, “Ah, that's a shame,” he meets my gaze, smirking, “'cause from where I sit, you guys are on your own,” he shrugs, “I mean, rules are rules, right?“ I smile, shrugging, “True, true.”

 

Ruff groans, clutching at the wooden bars, “You have to help us save our island! It's all we've got!“ Hiccup purses his lips, humming as he addresses us, “I don’t know. Guys?”

 

Noah hums, “hmm…I wouldn’t, personally.” Astrid nods, “I think you've got to stick to your guns,” she says, “You make a rule, you follow it through. Otherwise it's... you know...”

 

“Anarchy,” Fishlegs concludes, “I’m with them.”

 

Tuff moans, “Come on, you guys, please?” he begs, “Is there anything we can do? Name it, we'll do anything.“

 

I hum, tapping my chin, “Well, in that case—” I drawl, turning my head to Hiccup in agrand gesture, “—I guess we could consider a possibility…”

 

The twins plead: “Anything!” before Tuff offers: “I'll make you assistant ruler.” I glare, and he continues, “Ruler's best pal?” I growl. “Second string ruler?“

 

“No,” Hiccup interrupts, placing a hand on my shoulder, “I have a better idea, actually,” his hand falls, and I feel myself missing his touch, “We divide the island up amongst all of us. We all own it. There's no ruler, no sister of the ruler.”

 

Ruff gasps, and I cross my arms, head tilted up.

 

“We’re all rulers,” Noah adds, and Tuff gasps, outraged, “What? That's blasphemous! You can't do that to the ruler.“

 

Then, his butt catches on fire. He sniffs the air, and when he notices his predicament, drops to the floor in a frenzied effort to put out the flame.

_“_ _Okay, you guys can have whatever you want._ The island's all of ours. Just-just get these things out of here!„

 

Satisfied, Hiccup and i share a look, then bump our fists together lightly, before we finally move to the exit, mounting our dragons on the way.

 

Xxx

 

Hiccup, with the help of the night terrors, leads the fireworms away, and everything returns to normal.

 

And I add a nickname to the pile of Hiccup’s nicknames.


	20. Tracker Class

**Eira**

One morning, a rumblehorn destroys the base.

 

As we try to catch it for the 2nd week in a row, Gobber arrives with news from Berk. that is, after we accidentally trap him in a rumblehorn trap.

 

After the twins prove themselves not only stupid, but also useless, Gobber cuts himself free. He lands on the forest floor with a grunt.

 

“Gobber, what did you do with our Rumblehorn?” Tuff asks, accusingly. Gobber huffs, “Rumblehorn? What's a Rumblehorn?“ I sigh, leaning against Hiccup, “a new dragon.” Fishlegs nods, adding: “A new dragon that's been trying to chase us off the island.” Astrid groans, “us, and everything else.”

 

Hiccup nods, “We've been trying to catch it and relocate it.” Snotlout groans, “Yet we caught you,” he cheers, dryly: “ Yay, us.”

 

I shove my elbow into his chest, and he quietly yowls.

 

“You're trying to catch a dragon with a net that can't hold a one-legged, one-armed Viking?” Gobber scoffs, “Amateurs.”

 

I shrug, “can you blame them?” I ask, “they never finished their Dragon-trapping-training did they?” Hiccup frowns at me, “’they’? neither did you, scale brain.” I shrug, as the conversation returns to it’s original topic with Tuffnut offering to club Gobber.

 

Hiccup rolls his eyes, “Yeah, we should just get back and check on the dragon base.” Gobber nods, striding forward, “Eh. Well, let's see what you've done with the place.”

 

We return to a trashed Dragon Base, which Gobber oh-so-helpfully points out.

 

“It looks very, well...“

 

„Trashed!“ Astrid groans, throwing her hands into the air.

 

“Your words, not mine.”

 

I grunt, “thanks for pointing out the apparent, captain obvious.”

 

“The Rumblehorn must have hit us while we were out chasing you,” Hiccup concludes, ignoring Astrid and me. Tuff frowns, leaning close to Hiccup and I, “Last chance. I can still club him. Come on, club, club, club. Join the club,“ he offers, accompanying his words with a fitting gesture.

 

Gobber shakes his head, “As much as I love a good clubbing, even my own, it will have to wait. You and I need to talk. I've come with disturbing news about your father.”

 

I blink in surprise, as Hiccup (seemingly automatic) asks: “Is he all right?”

 

Gobber laughs, “Oh, he's fine.” Hiccup sighs, relieved, “That's a relief.” Gobber hums, “But, then again,“ he murmurs, „not so fine.“ I blink owlishly, brows raised to my hairline, before furrowing them. “Gobber, you’re making no sense, “ I criticize, and Hiccup sighs, exasperated, “Gobber, you're killing me. Is my father okay or not?“

 

„Oh, he's as fit as a dragon,” Gobber assures us, “Unfortunately, he's as ornery as one, too.”

 

Toothless and Echo growl at him. He shrugs. “No offense,” he tells the dragons, then turns back to us, “I've never seen him like this... angry, shouting at everyone.”

 

I shrug, “actually, that sounds remarkably like Stoick.” Hiccup nods in agreement, adding: “sounds like ‘vintage’ Stoick the Vast to me.”

 

“You think I would have sailed in a boat by myself for a week if it were "vintage" Stoick the Vast?” Gobber asks us, making me reconsider, “He's driving the village crazy!”

 

Hiccup sighs, “All right, I guess I'd better see what's going on with him.” Gobber hums, nodding: “Good idea. “

 

“You want to ride back with me and Toothless?” Hiccup asks Gobber, who shrugs, “Actually, I think I might stay a while, help repair your wee dragon base. See if I can offer up some of my dragon-killing experience to help defend against that Rumblehorn. If there's time, I'll take Tuffnut up on that clubbing.”

 

I huff, arms crossed, “So basically, you're hiding out from the chief.” Gobber shrugs, nodding, “One might look at it that way.” Hiccup sighs, getting on Toothless, “Well, bud, I guess we're off to Berk.”

 

 

As they take off, Gobber turns to the base and claps his hands together, “so, Rumblehorn,” he laughs, “let’s see what yer’ made of!”

 

Xxx

 

By the time Hiccup returns, all hell has broken loose. After building a wall under Gobber’s instructions, the Rumblehorn attacks. Despite the wall itself holding, the wood posts balancing on top of it tip over, burying Gobber underneath them.

 

As Hiccup, Toothless and Stoick approach from the sky, I’m helping the dragons uncover Gobber, and the twins order to shoot, despite not getting a clear view on who is even coming towards us.

 

“Whoa! Hey, it's us. Cut it out!” Hiccup protests, and the firing ceases. At that moment, Gobber emerges from the rubble.

 

“Nice to see you, Chief. You're looking very fit. Your hands seem to be rough... and well-worked,” I hear Tuff say as I join them, “Anyway, welcome to Rumblehorn hel.” I roll my eyes.

 

“You weren't kidding about having dragon problems,” Stoick assesses, as Hiccup steps forward, “Is anybody hurt?”

 

I shrug, “depends on who you ask, really,” I say. Hiccup shoots a quirked brow my way, and I shrug again, “Gobber’s…fine.” The blacksmith groans behind me, and I add: “Probably. The rest of us are 100% A-Ok!” I assure him, giving him a round ‘ok’ sign with my fingers.

 

Just then, Gobber approaches, flailing his boot around on his hook, “Hello, lovies. Who'd like some figgy pudding?“

 

Stoick furrows his brows, „what’s wrong with him?” he asks, and Tuff butts in: “Well, Chief, you can start with the peg leg,” he shrugs, “And then you add in the hook and the bad breath, weird neck. I mean, look at his neck.“

 

Snotlout interrupts his rant to elaborate, “He'll be fine. He got hit by a watchtower.”

 

Meanwhile, Gobber doubles over laughing, swatting at a not-very-amused Toothless, “Ah, you're killing me. Who knew you were such a card?“

 

I turn back to Hiccup as Noah speaks, urgently, “Hiccup, these Rumblehorn attacks are getting out of hand. We have to do something.“ I nod, „yeah. I don’t know how much more of this we can take.”

 

As Stoick begins to order us around, Hiccup brings his hand to his chin, deep in thought.

 

“Okay, then, first things first. We start with—“ Stoick begins, but his son interrupts him: “Astrid, Eira, you search the Eastern coastline,” he commands, “Ruff, Tuff, you have the West. My father and I will take the middle of the island. Noah, Fishlegs and Snotlout, you take care of Gobber and keep fixing the base.”

 

Before mounting Saphhire, I risk a glance at Stoick.

 

I don’t miss the prideful look he gives Hiccup.

 

If there was ever any doubt he had about Hiccup being a good chief, it vanishes—not all of it, but most—and I know Stoick sees the potential his son brings to the table.

 

These days it’s all I see, and a far cry from the timid boy I met in the dragon-fight arena three years ago.

 

After Snotlout complains, as he always does, I butt in:

 

“Okay, fine, you want to hunt the unstoppable, bloodthirsty dragon instead?”

 

Snotlout considers it, “Bloodthirsty dragon, huh?”

 

Gobber blabbers behind him: “Ooh, look at my tail. Do dragons chase their tails or do they breathe fire on them? I don't know.“

 

Snotlout presses his lips together, “On second thought, I don't want to give you guys an unfair advantage,” he puts an arm around Gobber’s shoulders, “So I should probably stay behind and protect one of the archipelago's national treasures.”

 

“The sun is a shiny potato covered in drawn butter.”

 

“And the moon is a scoop of ice cream.”

Xxx

 

Astrid and I comb the entire coastline, but still come up emptyhanded as we regroup in the evening. Astrid and I arrive shortly after Hiccup and Stoick do.

 

“Hiccup,” Astrid says, urgent, and I ask, “did you find the Rumblehorn?” Hiccup sighs, “More like he found us.” I frown, as Stoick laughs, “Gave us a good run, that one.” I smile, shrugging, “Well, I’m glad someone’s having fun.”

 

Hiccup addresses me, “We're gonna resupply,” he faces the group, “and then we all need to go look for it.”

 

But, in that moment, Tuffnut announces it approaching us.

 

“Get to your dragons!” I yell as the dragon steers straight for the base, and Hiccup adds: “We need to steer it away from dragon’s edge!”

 

As he runs to Toothless, he exclaims in disbelief: “It tracked us all the way here!” Stoick whistles, “impressive,” and I remind them: “Admire later, distract now!”

 

As we take to the skies, the Rumblehorn zips right past us.

 

“Why isn’t it going after us!?” I ask. Hiccup helpfully points out: “’cause it’s going after him.”

 

It’s then that I notice the mighty dragon chasing Gobber.

 

“Let's get his attention, bud,” Hiccup tells Toothless as they chase the Rumblehorn. Toothless fires a plasma blast, which goes ignored by the dragon.

 

We all try firing at it, warning shots if nothing else, but are met with a stubborn ignorance. Feeling there’s no other way, Hiccup resigns himself to aiming exactly at the dragon.

 

At the last moment, Stoick redirects the shot, causing him to miss.

 

“Dad, what are you doing?”

 

“If that dragon wanted to hurt people, he'd have done it by now,” he says, and I blink in recognition, “Something else is going on here.“

 

, “He’s right, Hiccup!” I enforce, “The Rumblehorn isn’t aggressive, it’s…it’s…”

 

“Yeah?” Hiccup asks.

 

I shrug, frustrated, “I don’t know! But if it wanted us dead, we would be by now!”

 

With a nod, he signals for us to land—so we do.

 

Stoick walks up to the Rumblehorn, talking to it.

 

“Do you have any ideas what might be going on?” Hiccup asks. I shrug. “No…” I purse my lips, arms crossed, “I mean. Maybe it wants to get us off the island?” He frowns, asking: “but why?”

 

I frown, gazing at the beast.

 

“I wish I knew.”

 

In that moment, Stoick reports: “I think this dragon is trying to tell us something.”

 

A split second after he suggests this, Meatlug, Hookfang, Stormfly and Barf/Belch begin to roar, taking off—with the riders on their backs. They fly in a circle above us.  

 

“Whoa!” I gasp, staring at the sky.  

 

“I think you're right!“ Hiccup tells his dad. The Rumblehorn flings Stoick onto his back, and after the initial shock wears off, the chief fully accepts it as the Rumblehorn leads us to sea.

 

Hiccup and I fly out ay little farther upon seeing the water level rise.

 

“A huge wave,” I gasp, speechless. Hiccup huffs, “come on, we gotta tell the others.”

 

We quickly return to the edge, and after telling everyone about the wave, Hiccup and Astrid come up with the plan to reinforce the stone wall Gobber had built.

 

As the wave grows closer, the wall begins to crack.

 

“You handle the cracks, son! I've got an idea,“ Stoick commands. Hiccup turns to us, “You heard the man!”

 

Immediately, I call Spike over, and he helps Stormfly fortify the walls with their spines.

 

Toothless, Barf/Belch and Saphhire toss boulders to each other, fortifying it with them. The wave is only a few feet away, now, and Hiccup and I gasp.

 

Meanwhile, Stoick and the Rumblehorn knock over a huge seastack, right onto the wall, adding the needed reinforcement to stop the wave.

 

I laugh, cheering: “HAHAHA! It worked!”

 

I hear Hiccup laugh somewhere beside me, and when I turn to look—

 

I’m met with a positively glowing Hiccup Haddock. His eyes are alight with mirth, and his lips are stretched into a wide grin.

 

It’s…hypnotic, almost.

 

_Fuck._

**Hiccup**

After the dark deep incident, in which Fishlegs discovered a new island where Gronckles live, our schedule doesn’t stay peaceful for long.

 

It started with a nightmare.


End file.
